Tribulations
by mscatmoon
Summary: Sequel to Half Breed. Mick and Beth face even more challenges on the road to eternity. Nothing is ever quite what it seems, and there are no coincidences in the universe...
1. Resurrection

**AN**: Sequel to Half Breed. Summary: Mick and Beth honeymoon in Alaska. Of course, they just can't avoid getting involved in a case while there… Here's my wedding present to Mick. :kiss: Buckle your seatbelts folks; it's going to be a bumpy ride…

Cast of characters: Yeah, it just so happens for this story I've got these images in my head of what some of the characters look like, so I thought I'd share with y'all. Randy -- looks a little like one of the Darryls from Newhart. Doc Haliday -- old creepy looking undertaker from some movie or TV show. I can see him in my mind's eye, but I don't remember who or where. Shane -- Bret Michaels of Poison.

**Tribulations**

By Cat Moon

Chapter One:

**Resurrection**

_I once said that when you live forever, the past catches up with you. Sometimes, though, __**you**__ catch up with the past. "Don't let the past remind us of what we are not now…." Don't quote me on that one though; I stole it from Crosby, Still and Nash. Or was that Crosby, Stills, Nash, and Young? Amazing song. Life is amazing, even undead life. As you get older and wiser you realize that the horror and pain exist right alongside the joy and happiness. If you're lucky you experience more of the latter than the former, but you can't escape it. In fact, it's the pain that makes the pleasure so sweet. If you don't know the darkness, you can't appreciate the light. My light is Beth. The darkness is no match for her love. It finds all my dark places and erases the shadows. When I can't find the strength to have faith in myself, her faith will carry me through. My soul mate._

_My wife._

XXX

Beth looked at Mick. Mick looked back. Beth looked at the door. She waited. He shifted almost nervously. Beth looked at Mick again.

Beth nodded toward the doorway in front of them. "I think this is the part where you're supposed to sweep me off my feet."

"I thought I did that a long time ago," he said, but he obligingly picked her up in his arms, luggage also slung over his shoulder.

"Show off," she commented as he carried her over the threshold.

Mick raised one eyebrow at her as he put her and the bags down and kicked the door shut. "That's not showing off," he answered, advancing on her as she playfully backed away. "_This_ is showing off." Using vamp speed, he had her pinned against the wall with his body before she could take another breath…

It shouldn't have ended there. Hindsight is 20-20 of course. He'd seen the fatigue around her eyes and mouth; he was in need of some rejuvenation himself, it had been a long night and it was nearing dawn (well, if dawn was came at the normal time in Alaska). So he'd suggested they both get some rest, and officially start their honeymoon later. The fact that she agreed told him he was right about how tired she was. It turned out to be the only thing he was right about. Too bad he didn't know himself as well as he knew Beth.

Seemed like a good idea at the time. Road to hell, and all that. Good intentions.

XXX

_Coraline and blood. So much blood. White sheets now red, pretty white wedding dress with grotesque splatters in a random pattern fit for some obscene Rorschach test. It's running down the walls, and I can feel it in my hair, and running down my body like rain. It never rains in California, but baby it pours. And it's pouring down me now. Blood, tears, sweat, semen. Some things you run out of, never to make again. Others return, refusing to let you go, reminding you of your lost humanity. And the rest…the rest you borrow, buy, or steal. Monster, creature. Killer. A thousand horrible images from movies and books, flashing in my mind like a neon sign, except there are no neon signs yet. Damned. What did I do that was so horrible, what sin did I commit to deserve this fate? Someone… someone has to tell me…_

_Coraline?_

Confused, I stared wildly around, trying to make sense of the unreality. There's no way to explain how it feels to be blissfully happy one moment, and filled with horror the next. Unless you've been there, you can't know, and I wouldn't want anyone to ever be there. You think, I'm dreaming, I'll wake up soon. But as the moments tick by, and you can't hear or feel your heartbeat, and the sheets are soaked with blood, the horror chokes you. You realize you simply can't bear it; you will go insane. The betrayal that cuts into you is as bad as the agony cramping your stomach, and you realize with a sickening lurch that nothing will ever be the same again. Life, as you knew it, is over. Forever.

_Till death do us part?_

Gradually Mick became aware of his surroundings. The cold wind blowing around him and the darkness enfolding him like a cloak brought reality back into focus. His gaze flew to the balcony window, sight zeroing in between the parted curtains and locking on the view of Beth, sleeping peacefully in the bed. A wave of intense longing washed over him, but the shame that accompanied it kept him where he was. Rising to his knees, he rested his palm against the glass, wanting to be inside with the warmth and Beth, not outside in this frozen wasteland. The difference between worlds, the one he'd been so careful to learn to ignore the past few months, hit him now like a blow to the solar plexus.

Emotion choked him, and he remained like that, as frozen as the ground beneath, hand glued to the door. _What kind of husband am I to her, that I can't even sleep in the bed beside her on our wedding night?! She deserves so much better…_ Self revulsion of a kind he hadn't experienced in a long time stole his breath. It would have been painful – if he'd needed it. _I'm dead. She married a dead man_. _It's not even a real marriage_… Tears slid down his cheeks, only to begin to crystallize in the frigid Alaska air. Logic, rationalizations, comforting phrases, hope and faith… they were all beyond him at the moment, the emotions of the nightmare held him prisoner.

Vampires don't dream.

Mick stayed like that for a long time. Eventually, self pity and self indulgence won out. His desire to be close to her overruling his self punishment, he silently opened the door, and slowly moved across the space between them until he was next to the bed. Carefully, so as not to wake Beth, he settled himself on the floor, leaning against the night stand. He was content to sit like that, just to be allowed to watch her sleep.

XXX

Beth opened her eyes in the darkness of the room, waiting and listening. She had that feeling like _something_ had awakened her; a sense of something being off. Turning her head, she was surprised to see the dark form of her husband huddled on the floor next to the bed.

"Mick?" She automatically reached out to him.

He shrank back from her. "Don't. I'm cold."

"Mick – what's _wrong_?" she demanded, alarmed. Everything was off; his posture, his voice.

"Nothing," he answered, but he wouldn't look at her.

"Bullshit!" she declared vehemently.

That got him to look at her, as his eyes met hers in surprise at the word and tone of her voice. "I…" he faltered, "I had a nightmare."

"If they're anything like the ones I used to have…" she shuddered in sympathy, holding out her hand again. "Come to bed."

"I'm cold," he warned again.

She smiled at him lovingly, promisingly. "You'll warm up."

After a long moment when she worried he'd actually refuse, he finally climbed into the bed with her. She wrapped as much of herself around him as she could. Once there though, his arms tightened around her like steel.

"Tell me," she asked, stroking his hair comfortingly.

"I can't," he whispered, his face close to hers.

And then he was kissing her, kissing her with a desperation that she'd never felt in him before. She went boneless in his arms, wanting only to give him what he needed. His hands tangled in her hair as he devoured her mouth, lips caressing, teeth teasing her lips.

Hands, cold and rough over her body but trailing fire in their wake. Her underwear was slid off, tossed carelessly in a corner. In the dark she couldn't see much, but she could feel. The hardness of muscles on his glorious body; the touches somehow both gentle and demanding. How could one man be rough and gentle, cold and hot, all at the same time?

"Please… please," he murmured between kisses, his large, possessive hands cupping her breasts, fingers brushing over the nipples. She wasn't sure what he was pleading for, but whatever he wanted was okay with her.

Beth spread her legs apart, encouraging him, inviting him.

His eyes flew open when he entered her, staring into hers with an intensity that sent tingles through her whole body. The moonlight shining into the room seemed to find him just so she could see those eyes. They looked like a strange combination of vampire pale and human. Or maybe it was a trick of the light. Then his eyes closed in pleasure as he slid deeper, robbing her of the intriguing sight.

She bit her lip at the pleasurable burn, a moment later felt his tongue touching the spot. That simple gesture was hotter than such a small thing should have been. She felt lightheaded, floating. – But came back to earth with a jolt as he started thrusting harder. No man had ever played her body like this, the pleasure building until she didn't think she could stand it anymore… but still it continued. She cried out, and he reacted to the sound, pulling her to him, closer, deeper.

"I need…" an agonized whisper, face buried in her neck.

"Take what you need."

The anticipation was enough to trigger her orgasm, but instead of feeling fangs pierce her neck as she'd expected to, she felt him turn his head away. Her scream of completion was echoed by Mick a moment later when as he followed her.

In the darkness and silence that followed, all she was aware of was the harsh breathing. With one last caress, Mick got up from the bed and went over to the fridge in the corner. Beth reached over and turned on the bedside lamp, watching as he pouring himself a glass of the blood they'd picked up before checking in. He kicked it back in one swallow like it was a shot of single malt.

"You are going to tell me what's going on."

"It's a long story."

"We've got time."

As she waited for his response she saw his eyes fasten on the bed with something like panic – and the glass slipped from his fingers to shatter on the floor. She followed his gaze to see a few specks of red stark against the white sheet. Only he hadn't bitten her. This time when she looked at him she noticed his forearm, and the marks that were in the process of healing.

Before Beth knew what was happening, he'd yanked her off the bed and was frantically stripping the sheets off the mattress.

"Mick, what's wrong with you?!" she demanded, but got no response as he finished his job and threw the sheets into a corner. She finally managed to grab his shoulders and get his attention. "Mick!

He seemed to come down from whatever had a hold of him, looking at her with recognition and something she didn't want to identify. "Forgive me."

"Jesus, Mick, just tell me what's going on? I thought we were passed this 'pull away from me' shit."

"You swear a lot now," he observed with just the beginning of a slight smile.

"Maybe you drive me to it." She took his arm, looking down at where the bit marks had now completely healed. "Wanna tell me what that was all about?" she said, more gently.

He looked away. "I was…hungry. I should've fed before we went to bed."

"You _know_ I'm okay with that. More than okay." She led him back to the bed and coaxed him to lay down with her on the bare mattress.

Mick ran a hand through his hair. "I wasn't. Not _tonight_. "She waited. "The nightmare was about my – my first wedding night."

"When she turned you," Beth said, not inclined to even use the woman's name. Some of the pieces started falling into place, and she was beginning to understand what his strange behavior was about. If anyone had a reason to have PTSD, it was Mick.

"There was so much blood," he whispered. "In the dream it was everywhere, I couldn't get rid of it."

"And in real life?"

_I went to bed a happily married man and woke up a monster._

Beth knew there was more to it than that.

Mick laughed, but it was a hollow and unpleasant sound. "She did a number on my neck. Maybe I fought her, I don't know. My memories of the actual turning are blissfully hazy. I woke up and knew something was horribly wrong. Coraline was going on about how we could now be together forever, and I was thinking she's just destroyed my life. I can't even describe to you the feeling of craving blood. The gnawing in your gut that is different from any hunger pain you've ever had. My only experience with vampires before this was from the movies and books – not exactly comforting images." He barked another false laugh. "It was over. My life was over then. That's how I felt… for a long time." He turned his head on the pillow to look at Beth, and she could hear his unspoken words.

_Until you came along._

"Coraline tried to reason with me, but I ran away from her. When she found me I begged her to kill me. Instead she brought me a woman. My first meal," his laugh this time was a sob, and Beth pulled his head down onto her shoulder. "She was so scared," he whispered. "I didn't want to do it, but I…god, Beth!" He crushed her to him and she held on just as tightly.

Mick cried for just a few moments, then pulled away slightly, wiping his face. "The crazy thing is, here I am now, and if she hadn't… hadn't raped me of my humanity, I would never known you or Josef." He rested a hand on her cheek. "The two most amazing relationships I've ever had. I'm so blessed to have both of you in my life. How do I reconcile that?"

"When you're a reporter you see a lot of tragedy, and most of the time the people it happens to don't deserve it. Some let it destroy them; others find a way to make something good out of it. Maybe that's all you can do. And you _have_ done that." Beth covered the hand that was still on her cheek, squeezing slightly.

"Is that what you call me killing some poor woman whose only crime was being in the wrong place at the wrong time? A tragedy for me?" he asked demandingly.

Beth understood she was being baited. He was pushing her, trying to see if her love and understanding had limits. Despite the fact that they'd been together for awhile now and she had some idea of the personal demons Mick kept locked inside, they hadn't talked about the brutal facts. Maybe they should have. There were no limits where Mick was concerned. He should know that by now.

"Yes. It was a tragedy for _both_ of you." _I wish that bitch was alive, so I could kill her again_. "You didn't know there was another way, did you? She never told her. All you knew about vampires was from horror stories – no wonder you thought you were a monster! Remember what Robert said – when we believe something about ourselves, we tend to act based on that belief." He was thinking, turning it over in his mind. She could see it in his face. She mentally crossed her fingers. "When you know better, you _do_ better," she added.

"I don't remember Robert saying that," Mick told her; the hint of amusement in his expression telling her his guilt was receding. For now.

Beth shrugged, embarrassed. "He didn't. That's what Oprah always says."

"Oprah." he repeated with raised eyebrow and she knew her Mick was fully back. "Well then, it _must_ be true."

Beth shoved his shoulder, secretly pleased. If he was teasing her again, all was right with the world. "Don't diss Oprah."

"The divine Miss O? I wouldn't think of it."

Beth giggled, slipping her arms around him. "Good."

"Dick Clark is a vamp you know," Mick announced suddenly, apropos of nothing.

"Huh?" she gaped at him.

"Didn't you ever wonder why he never looks any older?"

"He's aged… well, recently he has," she argued.

Mick shook his head. "Faked."

Beth stared at him uncertainly. "Are you pulling my leg?!"

"Can't tell, can you?" he quipped, echoing a similar conversation they had after she'd first met Josef.

"Now _that's_ scary."

XXX

Mick watched.

Every move the woman made was avidly taken in by starving eyes. Even the mundane movements held a fascination he couldn't resist. Simply preparing herself a bath was the most exotic thing he'd ever seen. Turning on the taps and running the bathwater, pouring some oil into the tub, setting the candles on the counter, getting a washcloth…

She was aware of the scrutiny of course; indulgently allowed it without comment. Showing no self consciousness as she let the robe fall from her shoulders onto the floor, she allowed his eyes to have their fill of her naked form.

He allowed himself the freedom to stand there watching openly, as she settled into the tub. When it's been so long since you've been around a human woman, you get used to not missing it, it's normal. Then times like this it hits you anew. Each little moment filled with life, infinitely precious.

"There's just something about a good old fashioned tub soak," Beth began, leaning back to relax. "I mean, the hot tub is great and I intend to spend a lot of time there, but a bath is kinda like comfort food."

"If you say so."

"What, you've never taken a good soak?"

"Not that I can remember."

"You should try it sometime then," she said, eyes sparkling in invitation.

It was of course, entirely impossible to resist. Mick started removing his clothes, his eyes not leaving her. He didn't know about the bath, but she was his banquet: comfort food, and sustaining meat and potatoes, rich decadent dessert, and the most intoxicating fine wine. He knew he'd never have his fill.

It was a big, claw foot bathtub, perfect for two. Mick stepped into the opposite end, settling down with his legs on the outside of hers. The water was warm, but not hot. For him, or the way she preferred it?

She wiggled closer and he slid his hands over her sides, noticing how the oil slicked her body, making his hands slid sensuously. It was a turn on, and his hands couldn't get enough of roaming over her wet skin.

Beth glanced down at his lap. The wicked grin she gave him alone sent shivers of pleasure through his body. "I see you _do_ like taking a bath."

His eyes darkened with lust. "That's not what I'm thinking about _taking_ right now."

"I can see that," she said, and wrapped her hand around his hardening length, stroking him at a maddeningly slow pace.

Mick retaliated, mapping her body with his hands, bending to nip and lick at her breasts. He pulled her head to him so he could kiss her properly.

"God, you get me so hot so fast," she said when he let her breathe.

"I know," he said smugly.

"So what are you gonna do about it?" she challenged.

His hands slid down into the water behind her, moving under her butt, lifting her easily, as they maneuvered themselves into position. Her hands on his shoulders helped guide her down onto his lap, and let him know when she was ready for more. They fell into a rhythm, moving to their own private soundtrack.

Mick licked a trail down her neck to the valley between her breasts, enjoying the salt of sweat on his tongue. She shivered at the sensations, and her internal muscles tightened around his shaft, pulling a growl out of him. She shivered again. He reveled in his heightened senses, in the ability to feel every response from her body reverberating through his own.

When they were both close to the edge, Beth stopped all movement and took Mick's face in her hands, somehow reminding him of that time at the no star motel. They could screw up as well as anybody, when miscommunication and misunderstanding wrecked havoc, but times like this, when they were two people somehow connected beyond the physical, it was almost eerie.

"Don't hold back this time," she told him, trying to guide his mouth to her neck.

And then, just like that, the spell of psychic connection was broken. "Shut up Beth," he told her with a smile, then took her mouth in a passionate kiss intended to short circuit her brain. His hands lifted and lowered her, using his vampire strength to best advantage. Ignoring her neck, his mouth moved to her ear instead. "Touch yourself for me," he whispered.

She moaned at his words, head falling back, fingers automatically obeying his directive. At the sight of her exposed, bared neck, Mick smiled secretively, placing an almost chaste kiss there. For some reason he didn't understand, the small gesture pushed her over the edge, and she cried out. As usual, seeing her like this, coming apart for him, with him, triggered his own orgasm. His head flew back, hitting the tile with a resounding bang that shook the wall. He momentarily saw a few stars, but rather enjoyed the combined sensations of release and dizziness.

Mick held Beth close, in no hurry to move or leave the haven of her body, enjoying the intimacy of the embrace. He placed soft kisses at the edge of her mouth. "That would have _hurt_ if I wasn't a vamp," he chuckled. "Give me a minute for the crack in my skull to heal, will ya baby?" he quipped.

"Why didn't you bite me?" she asked, her voice sounding a bit plaintive, confused. Upset? Her arms wrapped around his neck. "I want to be what you need," she admitted into his ear.

"Oh Beth, you _are_ what I need, never doubt that. I didn't because I didn't need to," he told her.

"Because you – fed earlier?" She was clearly trying to understand.

Mick sighed, for some reason not wanting to have this particular conversation. "Before, after the nightmare, was the first time in a long time I've even had the urge."

"Isn't that… unusual?" she asked, finally pulling back slightly to look him in the eye. "Or was I misunderstanding something?"

He nodded. "So I've heard. I guess I just didn't wanna jinx it by trying to analyze it or anything." Their conversation was carried on in quiet tones, influenced by the intimate position and their mutual desire to prolong the mood as long as possible.

"What do you mean_, so you've heard_?"

He would have squirmed uncomfortably at the new direction of the conversation, if not for the weight pinning his body. "It does with vamp to vamp sex. I've never… I mean, this is my first, uh… Since I was turned I haven't had a relationship with a human. Till now."

The look of wonder in her eyes was almost worth the price of admission. "Why? I mean, let's face it, you could probably have any woman you wanted, vampire or human."

He had to grin stupidly at her compliment, unable to answer.

"Okay, don't let it go to your ego."

"I guess, after the first wife, I wasn't anxious to have a relationship with _anyone_."

She processed that in silence for a few moments, but he knew more was coming. "So I'm your first," she said coyly, bouncing a little in his lap.

"Don't let it go to your ego."

"If it's not normal to have sex without biting, should we be concerned?"

"No, I'm not _concerned_ about the fact that I can make love to my wife like a normal man," he said, unable to keep the harsh tone from his voice.

Beth ran her hand through the hair at the nape of his neck. "I love you, I can't help but worry about you. You seemed to want it that night in Newark, when I finally got you to _really_... "

And Mick couldn't decide whether her worry was heartbreakingly sweet, or more-than-mildly annoying. "I shudder to think what you would be like if I was human instead of an almost indestructible vampire."

"Have you noticed anything else unusual lately?"

"Beth…" he began, frustrated.

"Humor me. "

Women. He couldn't believe they were locked in a lover's embrace and she was off on an investigation.

"Unusual. Strange."

Mick rolled his eyes, complying with her request. "The nightmare," he said after thinking for a moment.

"What about it?"

"Vampires don't dream. So that was kinda weird."

"Mick," she said, very quietly, and the tone set off butterflies in his stomach. "The last time you had the urge to bite was the last time you _really_ fed from me. If my blood is the cure, what if there are long term effects from drinking it? What if it's turning you… more human?"

Mick stared at her. "Vanilla!" he exclaimed in sudden remembrance.

"What??"

"Was there vanilla in the wedding cake?"

"You _tasted_ the wedding cake?!"

The chills he felt running through both their bodies were both frightening and erotic. "Sorta."

"Oh my god."

"We can't do that anymore!" Mick blurted. "It's too dangerous. If there's a possibility that it could turn me human…"

There was silence for a few moments as they both processed the unbelievably incongruous words that had just left Mick St. John's lips.

Was that really him? Horrified of the possibility of becoming human? Mick examined his feelings, and had to conclude it was. He'd been in a bizarre and brutal tug-of-war, pulled in two different directions. Mortal life, vampire undead, each one having benefits and drawbacks. However, to protect Beth and help all the other innocents, he needed the edge being a vampire gave him. Not to mention that he was beginning to feel the press of fragile mortal years in his life; if he could have only 50-60 years with Beth would he chose that over having hundreds? An eternity?

Beth grabbed his ears and planted a big kiss on his mouth, giggling. "Damn, I wish I had a tape recorder! I can't wait to tell Josef this one!"

"Please don't mention another man when you're having sex with me."

That wicked look on her fact again, Beth looked down at their joined bodies. "Oh. We _are_ having sex, aren't we?"

"And if we stay this way much longer, little Mick is going to wake up again," he wiggled his eyebrows at her.

"What wrong with that? We are on our honeymoon. We're supposed to have lots and lots of sex."

Mick sent out a silent prayer of thanksgiving for vampire… stamina. "Think you can handle it?"

"Have I ever _not_ been able to handle you?" she said, and they both knew she was talking about more than sex.

"Handle me, baby."

XXX

_The Last Resort_ was little more than a rundown shack on the outside. On the inside, it was your typical small town bar. There were a few tables and chairs scattered around, and a couple of pool tables. There was also a small stage off to the side. It was fairly warm inside compared to out; Beth took off her coat while her eyes adjusted to the dimness. The flannel shirt she was wearing over a tank top was enough.

As the couple claimed one of the tables, a man walked over to them. He was solidly built, as tall as Mick, with long blond hair that was tied back. Rather than the dark vampire persona favored in L.A., he was wearing faded blue jeans with several tears in them, a light blue denim shirt, and a cowboy hat. He looked like a cross between a rock star and a good 'ol country boy. He was the Sheriff of the county, and the contact Josef had arranged for them.

"You're the only strangers in town, so you must be Mick and Beth," he announced with a grin, holding out his hand for Mick to shake. "I'm Shane Alexander."

"Nice to meet you," Beth said as he pulled out one of the chairs and joined them.

"So how do you know Josef?" Mick asked when they'd settled in.

Shane grinned. "I'd tell you, but then I'd have to kill you." He grinned again, to soften the joking threat, and they got the impression it was something he did a lot.

Mick nodded toward his wife. "She'll only get it out of Josef later."

Shane turned his raised eyebrows to her, seeming to reassess her in light of this new information. If he knew Josef half as well as they did, he'd know getting secrets out of him would take a rare talent.

Sheriff Alexander called the barmaid over. "Bring me the usual, Daisy," he told her. She nodded and then looked at the others inquiringly.

"What's your usual?" Mick asked Shane.

"Jack, of course. What else is there?" Another grin.

"Sounds good to me."

"I'll have whatever's on tap," Beth told Daisy, who nodded and left to fill their orders.

"Did you find Silas okay?" Shane asked.

Mick nodded. "Yeah. We stopped there before checking into the lodge." Silas was the local blood supplier for the town of Resurrection, Alaska, providing sustenance for the vamps that preferred to go bottled. Unlike Guillermo at the morgue, he worked at the local hospital.

"So how many of you are there here?" Beth asked after the drinks had been served and the waitress was gone again. The bar was loud and distracting enough, so it was safe enough to talk if particular words were left out of the conversation.

"Oh, about one hundred, but that's in the whole county."

"That's a lot," Mick observed in surprise. "There's only a couple hundred in L.A."

"Well, I could be wrong, but I wouldn't think L.A. would exactly be a Mecca for our kind. All that sun and daylight," he shuddered melodramatically. "The weather here is perfect, most of the time."

"Yeah but that midnight sun part's gotta be a bitch," Mick observed.

Shane shrugged. "Better than the desert heat of L.A. Plus we get folks on the fringes of society – of both persuasions."

"Is that why they need a sheriff with your, uh, _special_ talents?" Beth guessed.

Shane nodded. "Somebody has to keep the peace. Some come up here thinking they won't have to follow the rules anymore. Alaska is the last frontier. "

"Must keep you pretty busy then," Mick said.

The sheriff nodded. "There's more crime up here than what gets reported." The unspoken message was clear; he was talking about the kind of crime that can't be reported. The vampire kind. "You two up for a game of pool?" he asked, motioning to a table that had just been vacated.

"Sure," Mick answered, looking at Beth for confirmation. "Ever played?" She shook her head, her eyes gleaming in excitement. "That's okay, I'll teach you."

Ten minutes later, the lesson was progressing nicely. Both were enjoying it, since it involved Mick being pressed up close behind Beth, holding the stick with her to show her the proper technique.

"This is called a pool cue, right?" she asked.

"Yes," Mick answered, while Shane snickered. He began pointing out the different parts. "This is the tip, and the shaft, the butt and butt cap."

"Wow. I never knew pool was such a dirty game."

Mick barked a surprised laugh. "I never knew you had such a dirty mind, either."

"You know now, don't you?" she asked, as Shane tried to pretend he wasn't privy to their conversation.

"Amen," Mick responded reverently. "Ready to try it on your own?" he asked, reluctantly letting go of her.

Beth nodded. "Okay, but I don't want you to cut me any slack just because I've never played before."

"Meaning?" Shane asked, intrigued.

"Let's make this interesting. Say, a dollar a ball?"

Shane looked at Mick for his okay; he shrugged. "Long as it's not my money she's spending this time," he served.

"California is a community property state, remember," she volleyed.

"That's property acquired _during_ the marriage, darlin'."

"I happen to know a really good attorney in high places," she returned. District places…

"Don't make me kill him," Mick responded, deadpan, knowing she wasn't talking about Aldo.

"Are you two always like this?" Shane asked, having been looking from one to the other during their exchange as if at a tennis match.

"Nah, it's a honeymoon," they said at the same time, both looked at each other, then shared a laugh at the coincidence.

Beth quickly chalked the tip of her cue. "Okay, the game is straight pool, boys, and lady's break first. 9 ball in the side pocket," she declared as she pushed her fedora back on her head, took expert aim and the cue connected, scattering the others and sending the ball in question exactly where she wanted it to go.

Something about the seamlessly fluid way the shot was executed sent suspicion through Mick. Too late. Without pause she lined up again and this time all the balls disappeared, one after another, leaving no shots for the others.

"Have I been had?" Shane wanted to know.

Mick put up his hands in supplication, to let Shane know he'd had nothing to do with the hustle. "You're a pool shark!" he exclaimed to her.

"Hah!" Beth said in victory. "Something you didn't know about me!" She began to re-rack the balls. "Shame on you, some stalker _you_ are. My boyfriend in college taught me."

"I must have been out of town on a case that week."

"Maybe we should switch to shuffleboard…" Shane suggested warily.

"Ooh, I haven't played that in forever!"

The two vampires were saved from responding by the sudden, blood curdling scream that was audible over the noise in the bar even to Beth. They were out the back door in a flash, as Beth grabbed her coat and threw it on, following behind.

In the alley behind the bar they found a red headed girl of about nineteen standing over a dark form on the ground. She stood frozen to the spot, transfixed by the horrific thing she had stumbled across. Hugging herself in reaction, her eyes were glued to the sight as if she couldn't look away.

It was the dead body of a woman, about twenty five, with her throat ripped out. The dark pool on the pavement was blood. It stained her clothes and was smeared across her face and blond hair.

Shane grabbed the girl by the shoulders and forced her to look at him, turning her away from the grisly sight. "What happened? Are you okay, Sara?"

"I was cutting through the alley on my way home…" she began, clearly pulling herself together. She looked down at the body again and the others followed her gaze. "Was it an animal?"

"Yeah, like the others. Probably that mountain lion again," he shared a look with Mick; they could both clearly smell vamp on the body. "Listen Sara, what have I told you about taking short cuts? Stick to the road from now on, got it?!" he demanded, fear for her making his voice harsh.

"I will," she promised in a small voice. "I was just going to…I thought I might stop in and say hi…"

Shane hugged her briefly, tightly, then let her go and gave her a hard push towards the back door. "Go inside and stay there, tell Daisy to put whatever you want on my tab – no booze! I'll call Greg to come and drive you home." He was on his cell calling his deputy before the door had even closed behind her.

The next few minutes were spent waiting for the team to arrive and convincing the crowd forming to go back inside.

"Others?" Beth asked when the crowd was gone and the police car and hearse were pulling up.

The deputy ran up to them, sparing a quick glance for the body before looking to Shane for instructions.

"Greg Barrister, this is Mick St. John, a PI friend from L.A., and his wife, Beth."

Greg nodded and shook Mick's hand, tipping his hat politely to Beth. "This one like the others?" he asked Shane.

Shane nodded. "Listen, Sara is inside, I want you to take her—"

"She might have seen…_something_," Mick cut in meaningfully.

Shane's eyes told the story of how he felt about that, but he nodded in understanding. "Take her to my office. I'll be there in a bit."

Greg disappeared inside, and another man joined them. He was of indeterminate age -- but looked to be really old, could have been in his 80's or even 90 plus. His craggy face was a mass of wrinkles, his white hair cut severely short. He was dressed in a black suit. He nodded to the sheriff without speaking, and bent down to examine the body.

"This is Doc Haliday," Shane told them. "We don't have a fancy crime team up here in the boonies, he's our local undertaker. But don't underestimate him, he knows his stuff."

"Doc Holiday??" Beth queried, her eyes wide.

"Not _that_ Doc Holiday. Well, at least I don't think so…"

"Okay, I need a scorecard. Is your deputy—"

"Human," Shane explained, "And no clue. Same for Sara. Doc is one of us."

Doc straightened and turned to Alexander. "Looks to be same as the other two, but I'll give you a more detailed report once I do the exam." He snapped his fingers and two assistants appeared with a gurney to load the body. He nodded to the sheriff and Mick. "Ma'am," he nodded to Beth and walked back to his car.

_Creepy guy_, she thought with a shiver.

Mick crouched down for a closer look, closing his eyes to get a whiff of the attack. Beth peered over his shoulder and scrutinized the body.

"Feral?" she asked, clearly not buying the mountain lion story.

Shane looked at Mick with raised eyebrows questioningly.

"She's seen a few," Mick explained, shaking his head at Beth, taking her arm and leading her away as the team got to work on removal.

"Not here," Shane silenced the topic of conversation in a clipped tone.

XXX

Shane sat behind his desk, leaning back in the chair, watching through the windows as Sara sat waiting on a chair in the outer office, tapping her fingers on the arm in either nervousness or impatience. Probably both, knowing her.

"This is the third one in two weeks," he told Mick, his eyes still not leaving the girl.

"Mountain Lions aren't indigenous to Alaska," Beth stated. "The few that are spotted once in a blue moon are down near the border, not this far north."

"She does her homework."

"She's a reporter, it comes with the territory."

Shane abruptly let his chair fall forward. "You married a reporter?" he asked incredulously.

"You'd be surprised how useful it is, having somebody on the inside to do damage control."

"That's me, your spy on the inside," she said, irritated at the implications.

"The spy who loves me," Mick misquoted. "I think I'd make a good James Bond, don't you?" he grinned cheekily at her, trying to diffuse her anger.

"Nobody does it better," she quoted back, apparently his charm held and she was unable to maintain her mad. While she'd never seen the Thin Man till recently, she obviously had watched the old Bond movies and was familiar with the titles and songs.

"Look, I'm sorry for questioning your loyalty, but this is a delicate situation," Shane explained.

"Then it _is_ a vampire, right?" Beth guessed.

"Yeah, but he's not feral," Mick told her.

"_Another_ vampire serial killer? Is this a common thing among you people?"

"Is murder a common thing among you humans?" Shane shot back. When she looked away guiltily, he continued. "What you have to remember is that whatever you have in the mortal world, you're going to find in ours – only less because there aren't as many of us. If you have one hundred serial killers, we'd have probably about ten. Here in Alaska it's maybe a little more intense. A lot of vamps that don't wanna follow the rules come here thinking it's going to be wild and woolly, anything goes. Actually, we're stricter here."

"I would think you'd have to be."

"Exactly." He turned his attention to Mick. "What'd you get from the scene?"

"Rage. Hatred. She never knew what hit her, and he wanted revenge."

"I was hoping maybe you'd get something I didn't pick up on."

"Revenge for what?" Beth asked.

Mick sighed. "No clue."

"What about the MO?" Beth asked.

Shane apparently gave up on being surprised by her jumping into the investigation and answered easily. "All three were women between the ages of 21 and 31, blond, and were residents of Resurrection. And probably a dozen other things in common, since this is a small town. But the other two were found in the woods outside of town. This one… this one was right under my nose." And his expression said he was taking that personal.

"So he's escalating. What's our next move?"

"Our?" Shane wasn't through being surprised by Beth after all. He glanced at Mick.

"She's pushy. You'll get used to it."

"It's a good thing I love you," she groused.

"I've got to go question 'the usual suspects,' and possible informants. First stop, crazy Randy."

"Want some company?" Mick offered.

"Why not, I could use the extra help with this. But Beth will have to sit this one out," he said as she picked up her coat.

"Why, does he have a problem keeping his fangs to himself?" Mick asked.

"No, not that. He's just… well, it's hard to explain. You'll see."

"In the meantime I can talk to Sara and look over the reports on the murders. Maybe a fresh pair of eyes will pick up on something you missed," Beth told them.

"That's my Nora," Mick patted her on the head in passing on their way out the door. Then jumped as she pinched his ass hard enough to leave a bruise, if he hadn't been a vamp.

Instead of leaving right away as Beth expected, Shane made his way over to Sara and plopped himself in the chair next to hers. He sat there a moment while they waited.

"Tell me exactly what happened," he told her.

"Not much to tell from my side. I was cutting through the alley on my way to the bar, when I heard this horrible scream. By the time I got there, she was… uh…" she faltered, her composed act slipping a bit.

He put a hand on her arm, rubbing comfortingly. "It's okay. Are you _sure_ you didn't see anything at all? Hear anything?"

"It happened so fast, and I was pretty freaked out," she admitted.

Shane blew out a breath and rubbed a hand across his face. "Okay, listen, this is Beth," he nodded toward her. "She's a reporter doing a story on the uh, animal attacks. She wants to interview you, and then Greg will take you home. Stay there."

She looked at him through narrowed eyes as he rose. "Wait a minute. All these questions, an attack in _town_ in the alley, the police escort… do I have stupid tattooed on my forehead?"

"Sara," he began warningly. "Just go home with Greg. It will be okay," he promised. Then sighed in capitulation. "Tell Ethan I'll stop by later."

"Okay," she said, finally satisfied.

"And behave yourself!" was his parting shot as he left with Mick.

"Why would I want to do _that_?" she joked back.

XXX

It was weird being out and about in the middle of the daytime hours – and having darkness around you. Even for a vampire. _A vamp born and raised in L.A._ Mick actually found himself missing the sun. For most vamps it was something to be tolerated because they had to. Showed how much he lived between the worlds? The glimpses they'd gotten of the scenery during the few hours of daylight were stunningly beautiful. Mick felt bad Beth was missing that, even though she assured him she didn't care. Maybe he'd bring her back during the summer…

Shane pulled the police car into a dirt driveway beside a rundown shack and cut the engine. They got out of the car.

"Hey Randy!" Shane called. "It's me, Sheriff Alexander."

Mick blinked in confusion, not quite sure he'd really just seen the vampire sheriff run and hide behind his cruiser.

"You might wanna duck," Shane suggested, just as the bullets started whizzing by.

Mick dove over the hood and landed next to Shane. "Silver?" he whispered urgently, trying to assess the risk.

"Nope, just regular ammo. "

"He knows we're vampires," Mick sought clarification, even more confused than before.

"I told you he was a bit… eccentric." Shane raised his head a few inches. "Now, Randy, you know that's not gonna hurt us."

"Git off my property!" came the disembodied voice from the shadows of the house, along with more gunshots.

"C'mon Randy, I'm tired 'a picking buckshot outta my butt. It's embarrassing!"

Mick ducked a little further down at the words 'buckshot' and 'butt' in the same sentence.

"We just wanna talk with ya. I brought a friend, from L.A. We don't want him to think this is Alaskan hospitality, do we?"

There was silence, no bullets. "Sheriff, is that you??"

Mick looked at Shane in disbelief. "My ex-wife was crazy, but in a cold calculating, screw with your head kinda way. This is a whole new level of crazy I've never seen in a vamp before. This is rubber room kinda crazy."

"A friend??" A moment later the screen door banged open and Randy was on the stoop, no gun in sight. "Well why didn't ya say so. Come on in!"

Mick followed Shane dubiously, but he strode forward with confidence, allowing Randy to pump his hand enthusiastically. Then it was Mick's turn for the friendly greeting. Randy ushered them inside, where they sat on a dirty, worn sofa while Randy perched on the edge of an old rocker.

"What can I do for you sheriff? Anything for you, you know that!"

"You know about the mortals who have been drained. We got another one today, this one right in town. I was wondering if you heard anything about it."

"Mortals drained, in town. Not good. Not good at all."

"Have you heard anyone, bragging, or acting strangely?"

_He's asking Randy about vamps acting strange_, Mick thought, but kept his opinions about that to himself.

"Hmm… bragging… nope. Not yet. But I'll keep my ears open for ya."

"Randy makes the wickedest moonshine in the whole state," Shane explained to Mick. "It's so potent it'll get a _vamp_ three sheets to the wind. So he gets a lot of customers with loose tongues."

"Maybe that explains it," Mick muttered cryptically.

"Thanks, Randy, as always." Shane reached in his coat pocket and pulled out a box of ammo, handing it over to Randy as his 'payment.' "If you hear anything at all…"

Randy snatched his prize happily. "I'll give ya a shout, count on it."

"Thanks buddy."

The goodbyes were another round of excited hand pumping, then they were outside again and walking to the car.

"So basically, you're providing Randy with the buckshot he's shooting you in the butt with, is that right?"

"Pretty much, yeah."

They were almost to the car when one, lone shot rang out through the cold Alaska air.

"SON OF A --! " Mick's voice echoed through the trees as he limped the rest of the way to the car.

XXX

Mick lay on the bed on his stomach, naked, biting the pillow his face was buried in. Beth was straddling his legs, bent over as she carefully cut into the skin of his buttock to remove the bullet. He had a high pain threshold, but some areas were just more sensitive than others. This was definitely one of them. Not to mention the embarrassment factor. Even if she _was_ his wife.

"Contrary to what one might think, this is _not_ sexy," she commented as she fished out the bullet with the edge of the knife and tossed it in a glass on the bedside table. She leaned back and watched with interest as the cut healed itself, then wiped the leftover blood with a washcloth.

_Hmm… missed a spot. _

Giving into an impulse, Beth bent over and touched her tongue to the spot, licking it clean then giving the cheek a kiss. Hmm, c_oppery, no different from…_

"What the hell are you doing back there?!" Mick squeaked, having almost levitated off the bed at the touch.

_Practicing_. "A kiss to make it better," she explained.

"Uh huh," he responded in a shaky voice as if not convinced.

She leaned over him further. "Do vampires like massages?"

"Who doesn't?" Now this could be turning out to be worthwhile after all, he thought happily.

"Close your eyes," she whispered into his ear in the sultry voice he always obeyed.

Beth made a quick trip to the bathroom for some massage oil, and stripped off her clothes before settling back in the bed on top of Mick. _This could turn out to be sexy after all_, she thought, surveying the expanse of his broad back before giving into the desire to touch. Having this man laying there before her, at her mercy, was more than a mere mortal could resist. She poured a small amount of oil on her hands and began stroking the muscles, hands gliding over his smooth skin, reveling in the feast spread out for her taking.

She wiggled down closer to the foot of the bed, so that her hands could roam lower, over the swell of buttocks, kneading and squeezing. It wasn't enough thought, she had to place more kisses there, little bites that made Mick squirm and moan.

"Do you have a… a butt fetish I should know about?" he managed.

"Only for yours," she replied, nipping at his right cheek. "Like it?"

"I'm about to drill a hole through this mattress."

"And I'm about to scandalize you again," she warned.

"Huh?"

"Ever been spanked?"

Mick made a gurgling sound.

"You know, I really wasn't at all happy with that comment you made about me being pushy," she told him, punctuating it with a sharp sting of slap. The sound was loud to his ears, echoing in the room obscenely. He wondered if he was dreaming again. "And the line about marrying me because I could do damage control…"

"I didn't mean that's why—"he managed before another slap stopped his voice cold, this one to the neglected – I mean, the _other_ cheek.

"Oh, and that condescending head pat??"

If this kept up one more minute he was going to totally embarrass himself, and come – not only without biting, but without so much as _touching_ his wife.

Mick used his vamp speed to flip over and pin Beth under him instead. "Turnabout is foreplay," he growled.

"Uh—"she said momentarily distracted by the hardness pressing into her stomach. "I think that's fair play."

"Oh, I don't intend to play fair." He told her in silky promise.

"Good, we'll be even," she said, reaching down to cup his balls in her hand.

Mick felt his eyes alter, his control dangerously close to slipping. Too far gone to focus enough to sense if she was ready for him or not, he grabbed the oil from the nightstand, poured a handful over himself to be on the safe side, and slipped insider her body. Mick let himself go, giving up some of the control that was always a part of him with he made love to her.

Beth screamed her pleasure, wrapping her legs around him and encouraging his thrusts. The pleasure was so intense it was almost pain, an ache that had him striving desperately for release but conversely willing it to last forever. In the end it was the sounds his mate was making, for him, because of him, that tipped the balance. The world turned inside out as the pleasure peaked in white hot release.

XXX

The winter festival was one of the highlights of their trip they were most looking forward to. It was an old fashioned, small town event, charmingly quaint for the two big city natives. They had dog sled races, ice sculptures, vendors selling foods and crafts, and the evening was to end with a spectacular fireworks display.

Mick and Beth wandered around, Beth sampling everything, soaking up atmosphere. They strolled arm in arm through the street. It felt so comfortable and normal; Mick could almost forget he wasn't just another human enjoying an evening out with his wife -- if it weren't for the fact that she was the only one pigging out on the food.

"How's the fudge?" he asked.

She grinned at him mischievously, breaking off a tiny piece and popping it into his mouth before he had a chance to protest.

The surprised/confused/comical look on his face was priceless, and she laughed delightedly.

Mick cautiously chewed for a moment, screwing up his face in concentration. "Mint?" he finally guessed.

"Chocolate mint fudge," she confirmed.

He couldn't help grinning; it had been a long time since he'd tasted mint. "Do women really think chocolate is better than sex?" he asked.

"They haven't slept with _you_," she told him, claiming a kiss.

He decided he liked the fudge mixed with the taste of Beth, best.

He had Beth, and he had blood. Food really wasn't high on Mick St. John's priority list, and he didn't mind it that way.

"The fireworks are about to start," Mick announced.

"Oh – I gotta make a pit stop first. I'll be right back." She grabbed a quick kiss and ran off to the bathrooms set up off to the side.

"That's another thing I don't miss," Mick said to himself as he waited for Beth to return, contemplating starting a list. The "being human is lame because…" list. That way he could take it out and read it whenever his mind kept reminding him why being a vampire sucked.

He'd come up with five more reasons, but Beth still hadn't returned. He waited, but with each agonizing second that ticked by on his wristwatch, his concern grew. Then the fireworks started, with a loud boom that rattled his eardrums.

How long had it been? Only a few minutes that seemed like hours. He ran over to the bathrooms, but there was no sign of Beth.

_All the victims were women between the ages of 21-31. Blond… First two were found in the woods, this is the first one that's been right under my nose… Escalating._

_Blond._

"BETH!" Mick screamed her name, the fireworks drowning out his voice except for those closest, trying to sound like just a man who lost track of his wife in the crowd and not a desperate vampire who's sensed his mate is in mortal danger.

_How could he be so STUPID, should've known she was in danger. How could I know? Vamps, attracted to half breeds, they don't realize why…_

He almost plowed Shane down before he realized it was the sheriff standing there.

"He has her!" he yelled, grabbing Shane by the arms.

"What? What are you talking about?"

"Beth is gone, she was right here a minute ago – he's got her, I know it!"

Shane's eyes widened in alarm. "We'll split up and search, you take the north area and I'll take south. We'll find her!" he reassured before they ran off in their separate directions.

Fireworks exploded, leaving blinding spots before his eyes as he tried to scan for her through the crowd of people in the darkness. Smells of explosive and sickening stench of greasy food assaulted his nostrils as he tried to get a fix on her through scent. Hearing felt like his eardrums were going to burst as he tried in vain to listen for any trace of her heartbeat, ringing in his ears so loud it was impossible. Straining to catch a scent of her perfume. He bought it for her, loved the way it mixed with her own personal scent to tantalize his senses, especially when the hint of arousal was overlaying all the rest of her unique smells… His senses were on overload, screaming for a respite as he ignored them and forced himself further. Never happened before, not since he'd been first turned and had to get used to everything being more intense. Everything was a whirl of color and sound and smell and nothing was working right and he needed them to goddamned _work_ right, just when he needs the vamp abilities…

Finally, Mick came upon the edges of the festival, away from the people. Things quieted down but his senses were still reeling. He thought he saw movement through the trees and almost blindly followed on instinct alone. Chasing shadows. The shadows blended into the night and vanished, but still he continued on. Was his sight… there she was – a dark shape on the cold ground. Not moving.

Not moving.

"No…"

It was a whisper on the wind that no one heard. He ran to her side, skidding and sliding to the ground before her. Afraid to look. Listen – was that a heartbeart or his imagination? Echoes of explosions. The world coming to an end in fiery damnation. Was it there, faint, slowing? He lost track of it, then there it was again. Slowing. Stopping. Dying.

He was going to have to do it. Right here, right now. His biggest fear, the thing he dreaded: he was going to have to turn her on their honeymoon. His worst nightmare made reality.

The white snow would be stained red, just like the sheets in their hotel room. His wedding, his honeymoon spent in agony of bloodlust. Coraline, forever? He lifted his head to scream at the heavens.

"No, God please _no_. Not here, not _now_!"

It was still his wedding night. Eternal night never ending here in the frozen wilderness. The ground beneath his knees was cold, he was shivering but he shouldn't be cold, monsters don't get cold…

"Not now," he begged.

Tears streaming down his face, he ripped open his shirt at the sleeve, baring fangs and was about to sink them into his arm, to offer his damnation to his bride as it had been given to him… When he felt the shaking increase. Only it wasn't coming from his body. Someone was trying to pull him away from Beth.

"NO…" he growled, trying to fight back. But the force held. The noise finally registered as words.

"Mick?! Mick! Get a hold of yourself man, listen to me!"

It was Shane, holding onto him, shaking him.

"I have to save her!" he tried to reach his arm with his mouth but was blocked.

"SHE'S OKAY – SHE'S NOT DYING, DO YOU HEAR ME? SHE'S not DYING!!"

Finally, the words made sense and the hurricane assaulting his senses stopped. The woods were quiet and still. The fireworks over. The loudest sound was Beth's heartbeat. His body was throbbing in time.

"Bit of post traumatic stress there, buddy?" Shane quipped in relief at Mick's returning awareness.

Mick broke free from his grasp and lunged, cradling Beth's head in his hands.

"She's unconscious and I think she's got a broken arm, but she'll be okay."

Mick saw the way her arm hung and knew Shane was right. He checked her over quickly, finding a good sized bump on her head, then running his sensitive hands down her arm.

Beth groaned and her eyes fluttered open.

"Baby…" her blue eyes were the most beautiful sight he'd ever seen, perfectly clear even in the dead of Alaskan night. "It's okay. You're okay, baby…" he kissed her sloppily, tears mixing with spit.

She reached up with her good arm and touched his face. "Are you okay?"

He laughed till he almost started crying again.

Shane came around other side and helped her to a sitting position. "Careful," he warned as she was about to automatically brace herself. "Your arm is broken." He took his jacket off tore it into a strip to bind the arm and keep it immobilized.

"Thanks. What happened??"

"We were hoping you could tell us," Shane said. "You disappeared from the festival. Scared the shit out of poor Mick here."

She looked questioningly at him.

"Let's get her to the hospital," Mick said, getting up – a bit unsteadily at first but no way would he ever let anyone else hold her – and lifted her into his arms mindful of hers.

"I was just coming out of the, uh, porta potty," she began slightly embarrassed as they started back. "Just as I was passing them someone grabbed me. He dragged me away. I remember trying to get away, and then I was falling. I felt the pain, then nothing."

"Did you see him?" Shane questioned.

"I… not really, he grabbed me from behind."

Mick carefully bundled her into the passenger side of the rental car.

"I wanna stay here and see if I can pick up the trail, any trace of him," Shane told Mick. "Are you okay to drive?"

"I'm fine now. Thanks."

"Why wouldn't you be okay to drive?" Beth asked, confused. He didn't answer. "I'm okay, don't need the hospital."

"Sorry sweetheart, you're not a vamp and that bone isn't gonna set itself."

"Don't rub it in, buckshot butt," she complained, cross from the pain.

XXX

Now, the hospital wasn't one of Mick's favorite places, although he spent too much time in them. Most people hate the scent of antiseptic and bleach, for him it was the overpowering aroma of blood. O, B, some AB, a hint of Rh factor on the air… Especially to a tired, hungry, stressed out vampire. Mick was _not_ a happy camper. He held back a growl as he inadvertently bit the inside of his mouth with his fangs for the third time since arriving.

Beth sat on the exam table, her arm encased in plaster, swaying a little from the pain shot the doctor had given her (that Mick had insisted she accept). Watching him pace the small room like a caged tiger. Neither said anything.

When his cell phone rang, they both jumped. "Yeah," he barked into it.

"Mr. St. John, this is Doc Haliday over at the funeral home," came the surprisingly soft and melodious voice of the undertaker. "I can't get a hold of the Sheriff, and I think I've found something here you need to take a look at."

"I can be there in an hour or so," Mick told him. "I'm in the middle of something right now."

"I really think you need to see this right away," Doc insisted. "I think I know who your murderer is."

"Tell me," he said voice turning to ice.

"Not over the phone. I need to show you the evidence."

"Okay, fine. I'll be there as soon as I can."

"Thank you."

Mick hung up, scowling at the phone in annoyance.

"You can go ahead," Beth told him. "I'll be okay here, I'll wait for the doctor to finish up and then wait here for you to pick me up."

"There's no way I'm leaving you alone," he told her with finality.

"It sounded important," she insisted.

"It is." Finding this vamp and literally tearing him apart with bare hands was #1 on Mick's to-do list. The blood boiled in his veins at the thought that anyone would dare to touch His Beth. He needed to be made a lesson of. Vlad had the right idea: maybe after he ripped the body apart he'd stick the head on a pole and put it outside the town as a message to any who might even think of messing with what was _his_.

"You know Vlad the Impaler is living in North Hollywood?" Mick said casually to make conversation.

Beth put out her palm in a 'stop' motion. "I _don't_ think you have to introduce me to _him_."

"He's not really as bad as they made him out to be. He was quite the military strategist. He knew how to freak out his enemies so badly they'd think twice before messing with him."

She leaned forward, peering at him intently through drugged eyes. Almost fell off table if his fast reflexes hadn't shot out a hand out to steady her. "You're just kidding me, right?"

"He and Liz are loyal and generous people –as long as you don't mess with their own."

Beth regarded him through narrowed eyes. "Does he know Dick Clark??" After a moment, she apparently found this the funniest thing she'd ever heard and began laughing so hard Mick had to catch her again before she took a header off the table.

"That's some good shit they gave ya, huh?" he queried.

"Dick's like: me and Vlad, we're like this," she giggled, held up her hand with two fingers crossed. Abruptly, she yawned. "I'm tired, Mick."

"Yeah, I think it's definitely time for some sleep." Although he had to say, she was cute like this, all stoned out and silly. "Tell you what. I'll go find the doctor myself, make him sign the release papers and we can leave so I can meet with Doc."

"Sounds like a plan."

He made her lay down on the table so she wouldn't fall off in his absence, and stalked off to drag the doctor back from whatever coffee or nookie break he was on. First the doctor's lounge, then if that didn't pan out, the supply closet.

XXX

Beth hummed to herself as she waited for Mick to return. The pain was a dull echo, easily ignored as she daydreamed about being back at the hotel, in that comfy bed. This room was too cold, the table too hard. Right now that was more annoying than the arm. She missed Mick; missed his deep comforting voice and his solid body close to her. Vampires were supposed to be cold, but when he was near she felt his presence like a warmth surrounding her. She wondered if he'd be okay to stay with her all night, she was usually fine with the necessary arrangements but now she wanted to feel his arms around her, holding her as she slept. The way he looked at her, like she was the only woman who existed for him, the love shining out of his beautiful eyes so strong it was more powerful than another man's physical caress… She wiped the tears from her face angrily. Beth hated getting weepy, she'd be glad when the crap they'd forced on her had worked itself out of her system.

The door opened and she turned her head, happy that Mick had returned already…

It wasn't Mick, and the happy smile faded. Doc Haliday moved into the room, and through the haze in her drugged mind she identified this as a threat. She sat up quickly, her good hand holding onto the edge of the table in support as a wave of dizziness swept over her.

"What… what are you doing here?" she asked, trying desperately to will her head to clear, pretending to be more lightheaded than she was hoping it would cover her eyes darting around for a weapon she might use.

"I think you know, my dear."

"Mick will be back any minute," she warned, cringing away as he came closer.

"You're lying to frighten me off, but it's not going to work I'm afraid. I know that right now he's on his way to the funeral home to meet with me. By the time he gets back…"

Doc reached out and touched her neck with one finger, his long nail almost, but not quite drawing blood. She flinched violently.

"Why are you doing this? At least you could tell me before you…"

He regarded her a moment. "No one's ever asked me that before."

_You never let them live long enough,_ Beth thought, but was wise enough not to say it out loud. "Who was she?" Beth tried, noting his surprise at her question. She had to stall to give Mick time to realize something was wrong. "She must have hurt you very badly, for you to be so angry with her."

"Hurt me?" His voice rose. "She turned me! They said that she was trampled by a horse. She was so beautiful, blond, like you," he reached out and ran his fingers through Beth's hair as she forced herself to remain still. "I was the only one in the funeral home that night, just me and the body. I was old, nearing the end of my life but I was ready for that. I'd lived a long and full life. I was ready for the Lord to take me home. Instead, I heard a noise from the coffin. I went to check it out – the next thing I knew my death was stolen from me! She made me like her!"

Doc leaned closer, so close Beth could feel his breath on her face. "Do you have any idea what it's like to live for eternity looking like _this_?! To be so old and repulsive that you're doomed to a life of isolation, no woman wanting to touch you, to love you? You're man is young, he's handsome. Would you open your body for me every night as you do for him?"

His words sent shivers of ice through Beth's body, and her drugged imagination started sending her images that terrified. She was as close to panic as she'd ever been. Whenever she was in danger she'd always held the belief deep inside that Mick would save her. Just like he always did. Maybe it was the drug messing with her mind. But what if it was a premonition, instead? She could feel a scream building like bile in her throat, and held it back with all her strength, knowing it would only hasten her demise.

Or maybe that would be a good thing?

"Did you kill her?" Beth asked, her voice shaking so badly she barely recognized it. "Your sire? Or are you too much of a cowardly weakling, you only pick on human women who can't fight back?!"

_Okay, when the hell did the plan change? And what the fuck am I doing baiting a psycho vampire?_

His eyes turned to pale blue, and he hissed at her, fangs seeming almost to glow under the fluorescent hospital light.

"Mick is going to kill you." _Please, Mick. Where are you??_

Doc laughed, the sound of insanity. "You don't get it, do you my dear? Why do you think I'm doing this? I _want_ to die."

"Good," a dangerously guttural voice came from the doorway, almost as unrecognizable to Beth as her own was moments ago. For the first time in 23 years, the sound of Mick's voice was chilling, not comforting. "Because I'm the Reaper."

Doc had spun around at the sound of the voice. With a look that was almost pleased, he moved faster than Beth could track. The vampires both leapt at each other, their collision sending them careening towards the exam table where Beth sat. With a small cry she got out of the way just in time before they crashed into it, sending them both sliding across the room to hit the wall under the window.

She could have run for the door, she _should_ have gotten the hell out of the room. But for some reason Beth would never be able to figure out, she instead scrambled into the far corner, huddling there for the duration.

The older vampire wasn't as strong as Mick – or maybe he wasn't trying to fight back much. After a short struggle Mick managed to hold him off with on hand long enough to rip apart the table with his hands, the jagged metal leg providing the stake he was looking for. He plunged it into Haliday's heart so violently, it embedded into the floor underneath, pinning him there.

All movement, all sound stopped, save for Beth's harsh breathing. Mick looked up and their eyes locked across the expanse of the room. Their voices were unused, their eyes speaking to each other instead, 

the intensity like silent screams. His strangely beautiful, pale vampire eyes staring into hers without wavering, not looking away, for the first time not hiding from her human ones. They blazed with pale fire, and she took the heat into her soul.

_You have to leave now._

_I'm not leaving._

_Please. I don't want you to see this. My darkness._

_I have to bear witness._

_No, Beth. No._

_Yes._

Understanding flowed between them, acceptance. Still, his eyes pleaded with her. Finally, finally, with a tiny nod, Beth rested her head down on her folded arms. She closed her eyes.

But the sounds. She heard the sounds.

Beth only noticed the silence had returned again when she felt a gentle touch to her face. She opened her eyes and raised her head, looking at Mick. His face was a human mask again, deceptively normal, worried, sad. She'd never really realized, not until this moment, all the things Mick had been trying to tell her. The reality of what he was stood out in stark relief. Mick St. John was not human.

She rose to her feet unsteadily, supported by his hands on her elbows. Somebody had had an accident with some red paint, it was splattered everywhere, some even running down the walls. The smell of it _blood_ was rich and permeating. There was a lump of some dark fabric in the corner, but she didn't look there too closely.

Her legs bucked under her again and Mick caught her in his arms, going to his knees himself, too exhausted from recent ordeals to hold either of them up.

"Are you okay?" he demanded, pleaded.

"I love you," she whispered a benediction. As his eyes lowered in relief she kissed each closed eyelid in turn. Then she passed out.

XXX

Beth nursed her beer, watching the two men enjoy their game of pool with a jaundiced eye, unhappy to be on the sidelines. "It's just not fair," she complained for the millionth time. "You guys get hurt and – zip – thirty seconds later it's not even a scar. I've got to wear this thing for _weeks_."

Mick looked up from his shot, into Shane's amused gaze. "And she's making me pay for it, believe me."

"You are _so_ not getting any tonight," she warned, and Mick was glad he hadn't been taking a drink at the time. He was also glad vampires didn't blush.

He pulled the black magic marker out of Beth's denim jacket pocket, and wrote "bite me" on her cast. Satisfied, he returned to the game.

"Juvenile," she pronounced.

The game broke up shortly afterwards, as it was nearly time for Shane's band to play their set on the small stage. As he left to make last minute preparations, Mick and Beth settled into a front row table.

"Are you really okay?" he asked, touching her hand in the familiar gesture they'd both used so often in their past.

"Are you okay?" she countered.

"I am if you are."

"We'll just file this one away for later."

His eyes smiled, only a little lingering sadness behind. He turned her hand under his so he could clasp it. "I wanted to tell you something." He let her wait a moment, questioningly, before he continued, lowering his voice for only her. "In all my 85 years, I've never known a woman as _brave_ as you are. You're amazing, did you know that?"

She crooked her finger, motioning him closer as if to share a secret, and they both leaned forward across the table to meet in the middle. She stroked the side of his face. "Everything I am is because of you," she whispered. "You _created_ me."

His eyes widened slightly, but once again he didn't hide from her. "And you created _me_," he answered, and then their lips met too.

"Ahem," a loudly clearing throat interrupted their kiss, and they broke apart to see Shane standing there. He shared a conspiratorial glance with Beth, then placed a guitar in Mick's hands.

The message was clear, and he knew who was behind it, even if he hadn't seen the gleam in Beth's eyes.

Mick stared down at the guitar for a long moment before raising his head again, meeting Shane's waiting gaze. Could he really do this again? Another look at the excited expectation on his beloved's face and he knew he was lost.

"I'm _really_ rusty," he warned nervously.

"That's okay," Shane told him with a grin. "The band sucks and the audience is drunk off their asses. Trust me, no one will notice."

"Gee, thanks, that's really comforting." He stared at the guitar again, thinking of ghosts. Maybe it was time to put this little piece of the past to rest, for good.

He nodded.

XXX

"And now, it's time again for your favorite Resurrection band – well, okay it's your _only_ Resurrection band, but tonight they have a special guest singing and playing guitar with them. Without further ado, here's Shane and the boys, with special guest Mick St. John."

The band took their places on stage. Mick had the center stage, Shane at his right and the rest of the band slightly behind. Silas was on the drums, Greg was playing bass, and their lead guitarist was a Real Estate agent named Freddy.

Beth clapped and gave a loud wolf whistle, sharing a grin with Sara, who'd joined Beth at the table to watch her favorite band. She couldn't seem to stop smiling, or shake the butterflies in her stomach as she waited to see her Mick perform on stage for the first time in over twenty years. It was a huge step for him, to pick up the guitar and sing again. He'd abandoned almost everything he loved from his human life after being turned, punishing himself with the losses he felt he deserved. Something had prompted him to pick up the music again for a short time in the 80's, but it had ended badly, leaving him even more skittish. Slowly, he was embracing the things he loved again. Allowing love into his life.

Mick looked adorable, just slightly this side of terrified, and Beth gave him a reassuring smile and thumbs up. Then the lights dimmed as the first melodic strains of The Marshall Tucker Band's "Can't You See" began. Mick concentrated on the strings under his fingers, and his head began bobbing slightly to the music. He shared a smile with Shane, who nodded encouragingly. As his confidence grew, and the magic of the music filled him, his face and whole being seemed to transform. It sent chills down Beth's spine, but these were the good kind.

That she could give him this, give him his music back, was so _huge_, she didn't know how she'd be able to contain it all. Her love for this beautiful man, this noble vampire rose up inside her until she felt like she'd burst from it. Tears welled up in her eyes and spilled over.

His singing voice was as rich as his speaking voice, captivating. "I'm gonna take a freight train down at the station, Lord, I don't care where it goes. I'm gonna climb a mountain, the highest mountain, Lord, I'm gonna jump off ain't nobody, ain't nobody gonna know."

Shane joined the vocals on the chorus, their voices blending harmoniously. "Can't you see, oh can't you see, what that woman Lord, she been doing to me."

_The lyrics couldn't help but make me think of Coraline, and I was surprised to realize that it was the first time since… _

_There were plenty of days back in the beginning where I wished it was as easy to end it as jumping off a mountain. Somehow, some reason, no matter how much I hated what I'd become, I never did get around to taking any drastic steps. Thought about it. Dreamed about it. Even prayed for it. But I survived. And what did my dark haired siren do to me? I look over at my beautiful Beth, smiling at me with undisguised pleasure. She brought me the love of my lifetime. She killed me, and then somehow she resurrected me by bringing this purifying love into my life. I went from thinking my life was over, to realizing it's only just begun. Funny how things turn out._

"I'm gonna buy a ticket as far as I can now, I ain't never coming back. I'm gonna take me that southbound all the way to Georgia now, till that train runs outta track. Can't you see, oh can't you see, what that woman, she went and done to me."

_I wanted to run away from myself, from what I'd become, and yeah, even the human I'd been. He was no prince, believe it. I turned my back on everything that reminded me of my old life because I couldn't bear the reminders of what I'd lost. By some miracle I'm still not sure I understand, I got a second chance. A chance to realize that I hadn't lost them – I'd thrown them away. I don't wanna run away anymore. Even if I'm afraid, even if it fucking terrifies me. I want it. I want it all._

"Can't you see, oh can't you see, what that woman has done to me…"

They wrapped up the song to enthusiastic applause; maybe the audience wasn't as drunk as Shane had implied. Didn't matter, Mick almost felt alive again, the blood and energy coursing through his body. Alive, reckless. Happy.

When the clapping quieted, Mick spoke into the mike. "Thank you. It's been a long time. This next song has a special meaning to me, I'd like to dedicate it to the woman who gave my life back to me. Beth. My wife."

Beth almost squealed, clamping a hand over her mouth just in time to avoid embarrassing herself. But really, what woman doesn't love her man making a dedication to her? She wondered what the song would be…

From the first notes, Mick's eyes locked on hers and never wavered as he sang the words to her. His expressive eyes spoke to her as well, a promise, a vow. The future.

"I see forever when I look in your eyes, you'll all I've ever wanted, I always want you to be mine. Let's make a promise till the end of time, we'll always be together, and our love will never die."

_Oh my God. Forever. The end of time. He's saying it. I'm not dragging him reluctantly, forcing him to accept that he'll have to do what was once unthinkable to him. He's choosing it. He wants it as much as I do. Always._

"Here we are face to face and heart to heart, I want you to know we will never be apart. Now I believe that wishes can come true. When I see my whole world, I see only you."

_I didn't even cry at my own wedding (Mick was the emotional one all day), yet here I am with tears streaming down my face, in front of a bar full of drunk strangers. The fact that some of the vampires here might actually get exactly what he's singing about doesn't help either. Maybe that drug is still in my system. As I drown in Mick's eyes I realize the truth: he's my drug. Our eyes are locked, and the room has disappeared. There's only the two of us in this whole world. What else could we possibly need?_

"I looked for you all of my life, now that I've found you we will never say goodbye. I can't stop this feeling and there's nothing I can do, 'cause I see everything when I look at you."

_When I Look Into Your Eyes, by Firehouse. I remember the song well. I was fifteen when it came out, and it was one of my favorites. I'd listen to it and imagine… I knew he was there, I've always known. I looked for him on every street corner, and in every song and movie and I knew someday I'd find him and_

_we'd never have to say goodbye again._

"When I look into your eyes, I can see how much I love you and it makes me realize. When I look into your eyes, I see all my dreams come true, when I look into your eyes."

_Mick is my dream come true. The emotions overwhelm me and I almost want to jump up on the stage and demand that he turn me right there and then... but I know it's not time yet. Not anywhere near. Somehow I sense I'll know when the time does come. I can wait. We'll share many years of love together, human and vampire. Then when the day comes, we will begin the next part of our journey as equals._

_When I was little I used to dream my prince charming would come riding in and carry me away to his kingdom to live with him forever. Little did I know he was just waiting for me._

_We were waiting for each other._

XXX

The northern lights are breathtaking; I can see why she wanted to see them so badly. Undulating across the Alaskan sky like a lover's gentle caress, bringing color to the darkness. The body in my arms is warm and alive; the love bleeds out from her and pours into me. It strengthens me more than any fresh blood ever could. We don't speak for a long time, communicating without words, letting nature settle around us and listening to what She has to say. Still, I can't help the words that finally come out of my mouth. Sometimes, old habits die hard. Living for her is one I have no intentions of kicking. The fact that she also lives for me, well, that…complicates things. We butt heads, vying for first dibs. I have a feeling eternity is going to be… interesting.

Maybe even a giant thrill ride that never ends.

"Not exactly the honeymoon you expected, is it?" I asked, rubbing her cast comfortingly. "You didn't even get to go skiing."

Beth spoke quietly, the mood of the night keeping her voice low. "It's two dreams come true. I'm finally getting to see the Lights, and I'm with my guardian angel. What else could I ask for?" She twists around in my arms so that our lips are almost touching. "We can always come back for our one hundredth anniversary. I'll ski then."

We kiss, and my body is already anticipating the love we will make under the lights of heaven. I find it's a subjective thing; my heaven is in my arms. I've faced a lot of my demons lately too, and come through on the other side stronger for the battle. I feel invincible as I slowly peel off the cloth covering the perfection of my angel's body.

But I wonder, as I still do, what demons will I have to deal with next??

**End of Chapter One: Resurrection**


	2. Mercy For The Devil

AN: warning -- another long one!

Chapter Two:

**Mercy For The Devil**

_Humans like to think they have free will, that their lives are, for the most part, under their control. Nothing could be further from the truth of course. Virtually their every move is dictated from someone higher up on the 'food chain' – whether it be the boss at the job who holds their livelihood in his hands, a parent or spouse that's legally responsible for them, or the masses of police, attorneys and judges they pay to police themselves. Their entire lives are power plays among animals. Yet they pretend to be civilized, arguing about capital punishment issues over a Venti Latte at Starbucks. It's kind of funny, actually, that they're deluding themselves so. Maybe that means I've lost more of my humanity to the vampirism, or I've let go of some of my romanticism about them. Or maybe I just see the absurdity in ALL life, living and undead. Am I starting to sound like Josef?_

"What do you think sounds better?" Beth asked from her seat on the floor, as she peered at the notebook computer on the coffee table. Her casted arm was propped up by her side on a mountain of pillows. "Deal With The Devil or Mercy For The Devil?"

Mick was stretched out on the couch, reading. He turned the book upside down on his lap to give his wife his attention. "I'm almost afraid to ask. Story?"

"Don't worry, nothing to do with vampires," she assured. "The State is considering a deal with serial killer Jonathan Morgan. In return for revealing where all the bodies are buried, they offer him life instead of the death sentence."

"You're kidding."

"I would guess you support the death penalty?"

"His victims are already dead. Finding the remains isn't going to bring them back."

"He'll never get out," she countered, sipping at her morning coffee.

"Sometimes death is a humane ending. Unfortunately most humans don't get that."

"We like the misery. You should be able to relate to that."

"Yeah, overcrowded prisons, deplorable conditions, cellmate rape… Maybe he doesn't deserve a 'humane' ending.

"Maybe _you're_ right. We burden the taxpayers to keep an evil killer behind bars because we can't bring ourselves to justify playing God."

Mick shrugged. "But you still are. You just tell yourselves its okay because a jury of twelve did it instead of one individual. The threat is neutralized, and the general public is absolved of any personal responsibility in the deciding of his fate."

"I guess we just try to do the best we can. As do you." Beth picked up the wire coat hanger that was in easy reach on the table and started attacking the itch inside her cast. "Too bad the families can't get closure, though…"

"Point taken," Mick said quietly. His cell phone rang and he stretched up to fish it out of his pocket. "St. John here, what's up Guillermo? Now? I was just about to go to bed. Ah, okay, yeah sure. Okay, I'll be right there." He closed the call and met Beth's inquisitive expression. "Gotta go, Guillermo says there's something at the morgue I need to see asap."

"Isn't there always?" She began shutting down her computer. "I've gotta go too, I need to do some legwork on this story, and then my doctor appointment is this afternoon. This cast is _so_ coming off."

Mick laughed; she'd been threatening to cut it off herself for a week now. In actuality, it hadn't even been three weeks since the arm was broken. The cast should have had to remain on for 1-2 months, but it turned out Beth's bone healed surprisingly fast. Or maybe there was a _reason_ she healed so fast…

They both got ready to leave for their respective jobs, sharing a goodbye kiss before going their separate ways.

_Closure_ and the measure of peace that came with it was something Mick St. John had been chasing for decades. If the bodies were recovered, some of the families would find it – but some still wouldn't. Because closure isn't something given to you by outside factors, it's something you have to find within yourself.

XXX

Beth shifted from foot to foot as she tapped on the side of the open office door. When he looked up from his paperwork, she offered a sheepish smile. "Hi Josh. Can we talk?"

Josh Lindsey rose and stepped around the desk to usher her inside. "I guess we can do that," he agreed, closing the door behind her. "How was the trip?" He nodded to her arm. "Only _you_ would go on your honeymoon, get involved in some kind of crazy adventure, and break your arm."

Beth thought about lying and saying it was just a skiing accident, but it was true; she _was_ always getting involved in craziness, and the less lies she told him the better it made her feel. So she didn't elaborate. "It was great and the arm's not so bad, the cast is being removed this afternoon."

That wasn't a lie either, as far as she was concerned the trip _was_ great. Of course, Mick flipped out with a case of PTSD, she was kidnapped and almost murdered by a crazy serial killer vampire, and she broke her arm. The honeymoon was wonderful. This is why Beth is married to Mick St. John.

"So what's up?" Josh gave her his questioning attention as he leaned against the desk in front of her.

"Actually, I uh, was wondering if you'd be willing to… I'm doing a story on Jonathan Morgan." Sometimes even _she_ didn't believe her own nerve; to ask her DA ex-boyfriend if he still wanted to share info on his cases with her even though she'd dumped him for her new husband.

"Ah," he nodded. "Should have figured."

"I'll understand if you don't want to."

"Quid pro quo?" he asked her, and something in his eyes made her slightly nervous.

That always had been their agreement. Of course he wouldn't be wanting to change it now, but she was a bit more hesitant about what her side of the deal would be than in the past. "We both do what we can, right?" she answered evasively.

"Fair enough."

"Is the DA going to offer Morgan the deal?" she asked, all business now.

"Probably. There are at least fifteen bodies out there unaccounted for. One of them is the niece of a high ranking politician in this city, you know what that means. We're getting a lot of pressure from the families to bring their loved ones home to rest."

"So he murders dozens of innocent people, but his life is spared?"

"It's our job to serve the people. If they would rather be able to visit their loved ones in the family cemetery than see an execution, it'll probably come down to that, yes. The DA won't make his final decision for another seventy two hours yet."

"What's the off-the-record part?" she pushed.

Josh sighed but answered readily. "It's a long shot, but we're continuing the investigation, hoping against hope that we can find the bodies ourselves."

"Then you won't have to go through with the deal."

"We don't like making deals with soulless killers who are purposely using innocent families' pain as bargaining chips."

"What do you think your chances are?"

Josh shook his head. "It's like finding a needle in a haystack. Morgan had all that property behind his house, but for all we know he disposed of the evidence far away from home. He did go out of town frequently on business trips."

"And in the end he may not ever remember where they all are, even if you do give him the deal," Beth pointed out.

"Or he could screw us and give us nothing in the end anyway," Josh added sadly. "Could be just a ploy to manipulate people, delay his execution for awhile. It's not like we trust him to be honest with us."

"Well, maybe my investigation will turn up _something_ you can use. If so, I promise I'll get it to you right away." She gathered her purse to leave.

"We still need to have that talk," he stopped her with his words.

Not that she harbored any illusions he would let it go, but hope springs eternal. "Sure. Do you want to meet me for lunch tomorrow, or you come over for dinner, or—"

"Maybe I could meet the two of you in Mick's office tomorrow night," he told her, totally shattering the illusion that he was only looking for a relationship conversation to help get closure.

_Mick's office? The two of us?_ "Uh, yeah, okay. Eight? Eight is good."

"I'll see you both at eight," Josh said amicably.

XXX

Guillermo was doing an autopsy when Mick arrived, but when he saw the other vamp he stopped immediately, covering the body with a sheet and going over to him.

"Okay, what was so important?" Mick asked. "It's not like I work for you, you know," he gave Gasol's frequent complaint back to him.

"Ha ha. No, this is definitely something you'd want to see my friend."

Mick dutifully followed him over to the drawers. He grabbed the handles of two that were side by said and pulled them open together.

Mick's eyes widened. Two vampires lay on the slabs. One of them had a stake protruding from his chest. "Holy—"he cut off.

Gasol nodded in agreement. "Both brought in mistaken for dead humans, police figure it was some kind of altercation and they killed each other. The guy on our left here has his head sliced off too, as you can see. But the one on the right—"

"He's just paralyzed!" Mick noted. He studied the man more closely; he looked familiar, but Mick couldn't place a name… "I recognize this guy…"

Guillermo pointed to the man's chest. "His stake broke off inside the chest, you can't see it."

"Well, there's only one thing to do, isn't there?"

In response to his words, Guillermo reached his hand inside the vampire's chest and rooted around until he was able to grab the piece of wood. Finally he got a good enough grip on it to pull it free of the body.

With a roar of pain, the man jumped up from the drawer, clutching his chest and doubling over.

"That's gotta smart," Gasol quipped with a decided lack of sympathy.

Mick had been watching the man closely. Now that he was animate, the name came to the face. "Hank Mottola!"

At the sound of his name the vamp turned to Mick with narrowed eyes. "You're St. John." He was still weak from his brutal staking, so before he had a chance to move Mick was vamped out and had him pinned to the morgue drawer.

"Unless you wanna end up like your friend here," he nodded to the beheaded vamp, "you better tell me what you're up to these days," he growled.

Mottola glared at Mick for a moment, but then acquiesced. "I'm looking for my sire," he spat in a defiant voice. "He had information about where she is."

"Your…sire?"

"Coraline."

Well fuck. In shock, Mick let go of Mottola. He had to know she was dead, didn't he? He knew she was impersonating Morgan Vincent, he was in on the whole thing with her, setting Mick up, killing his girlfriend... Was he looking to avenge Coraline's death? And more importantly, how could Coraline be his sire if she had become human through the cure?

"Coraline's dead," he told Hank, wanting to see his reaction.

Mottola smiled, and the sight chilled Mick. "If you mean from that gunshot wound your little blond girlfriend gave her, you know there are ways around mortal death."

"Someone turned her again," Mick surmised, feeling a cold spreading through him that had nothing to do with being undead. "Coraline is still alive."

XXX

Beth massaged lotion into the dry skin of her now cast-less arm as she absently walked around the grounds of Morgan's property. She had no idea why she was there or what she was looking for. Where the bodies of the poor victims here, waiting for someone to find their final resting places and give their souls peace?

Beth's doctor had been amazed, skeptical, but an X-Ray had shown her bone was now completely healed. He said it was the fasted knit he'd ever seen. She'd never noticed it in the past, but maybe she had always been faster to heal from injuries than she should have been. Was it from being a half breed? Despite the fact that she'd gone through her whole life up till now totally unaware of her special bloodline, there had to be other differences as well. She needed to figure out what they were.

She kicked at a rock on the ground and bent to pick up a discarded empty cigarette package. It sure would come in handy to have some of Mick's special skills… Maybe some kind of ESP that could help her locate the bodies, or even The Voice telling her where they were. Its presence however, was periodic and sketchy, like a faint radio signal that only just sometimes comes in loud and clear when you fiddle with the knob just right.

Feeling silly, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath of the wrapper like she's seen Mick do at crime scenes, waiting to see if she'd get any impressions. Nope, just silly. Good thing no one was around to see her, she thought, straightening up and tossed aside the trash.

"Beth," a hand tapped her on the shoulder.

"Ah!!" she screamed in shock, jumping a couple of feet in the air at the touch, and spinning around to face the person behind her.

Carl Davis put his hands up in appeasement.

"Carl, what the hell are you doing sneaking up on me like that! "You scared the crap out of me!" she clutched her hand to her chest where she could still feel her heart trying to pound its way out.

"I called your name several times," he defended. "You apparently didn't hear me."

"Apparently."

"So what are you doing here?" he asked her pointedly.

"I'm investigating the Morgan murders of course," she didn't bother to obfuscate. "I talked to Josh this morning," she name-dropped," we agreed to trade information on the case."

"Josh?" he echoed, obviously surprised to find them working together again, under the circumstances.

"We all want the same thing here. The bodies found, so that scum can't continue to torture the families with his carrot on a stick. You with a closed case, me with a good story."

"And you thought you'd find them by smelling a cigarette wrapper?" Carl asked her dubiously.

She cringed in further embarrassment, but shrugged gamely. "I thought maybe I could become like one of those psychics on TV that help the police solve the cases."

Davis shook his head in amusement. "You're getting weirder all the time, you know that Beth?"

"You don't know the half of it."

XXX

**PART TWO**: (Quid Pro Quo)

"I don't care what you have to do, I don't care who you have to kill – just get it done," Josef was telling the person on the other end of the telephone receiver when Mick arrived.

"I need a favor," Mick told him as he walked into the room with the re-staked Mottola slung over his shoulder.

"Of course you do," Josef told him, then did a double-take when he finally turned around and saw Mick and his prisoner. "Oh hell."

"I need a place to keep this guy until I can decide what to do with him."

Josef watched Mick dump the guy on the floor on his back. "Isn't that that Mottola guy who was in cahoots with Coraline?"

"Isn't that that Mottola guy," Mick mimicked sarcastically, irrationally irritated that Josef had remembered right away when it had taken him a few minutes to figure it out.

"Why am I thinking some more shit is hitting the fan?"

"You've got good instincts," Mick said, going over to the bar and helping himself to a tall drink of Black Label. After taking a healthy swig, he faced Josef again. "Coraline's alive."

Josef's reaction was so spontaneous and natural, even if Mick had held any doubts as to his surprise it would have erased them. "What?" He grabbed the glass of liquor that Mick offered, downed it in one swallow, and then sat down heavily in his chair. "Perhaps you'd better start at the beginning."

Mick flopped down in one of the other chairs. "I got a call from Guillermo. Two supposed stiffs had been brought into the morgue, only one of them was a dead vampire and one of them was just staked." He nodded toward Hank. "I did what any good vamp PI would do: I removed the stake and questioned him. Turns out he was looking to avenge "Coraline's" death – only he found out that she wasn't dead."

"How is that possible?" Josef's voice was calm, slow, measured. Not a good sign.

"From what I've been able to piece together, it looks like she was turned again. It would've had to be at the scene, after she was shot." _After Beth shot her._

"So she wasn't actually dead yet. But wasn't Beth there at the scene until the cops arrived?"

"Oh, the plot thickens. The sire had to be either a cop, or impersonating one. Then they took her to the morgue."

Josef smiled, but it wasn't a happy thing. "Where you checked to be sure she was dead."

"Shut up, Josef."

"Oh, I haven't even _started_ yet."

Mick jumped up to pace agitatedly, running his hand through his hair in frustration. "Don't you think I know that? I've been wracking my brain trying to figure it out. I don't know, maybe, maybe the fact that she had been a vamp and then used the cure made some kind of difference. Maybe there was some kind of transitional period between mortal cure and vamp where I couldn't detect anything."

"I don't like maybes. I wouldn't be rich today if I relied on them."

"You tell me," Mick shrugged. "Do you like speculation?"

"I've made some decent money on that," he admitted. "What I'm about to tell you isn't to leave this room."

Mick stopped his pacing to look at his friend. "Another secret, how'd I guess?!"

"You know that old vampires guard their secrets well, the edge it gives us is valuable. You also know that as we age, we gain in strength."

"No, actually, I thought it was an old wives' tale, considering how you whine at a little thing like having to jump up on top of a roof," Mick answered spitefully.

"Whether you completely trust me or not, I'm not your enemy," Josef told him with unadulterated frankness. "You come talk to me in another few hundred years or so and we'll see what you think then. You're racking up a hell of a lot of secrets already yourself, buddy."

"Yeah, okay, I get that," Mick admitted, rubbing a hand over his face in frustration.

"What you don't know is that we also develop more…resistance to certain things."

"What things?!" Mick demanded.

"Oh, like fire. And let's just say that we're harder to kill."

"Thank you for telling me that _now_. You couldn't have mentioned that back when I was trying to _burn_ her to death?!"

"You didn't tell _me_ you never saw her ashes until a few months ago!" Josef fired back.

"If you had known she was still alive all these years, would you have told me?" The bomb was delivered into the silence like a lobbed hand grenade in the seconds before it goes off. Rather than answer, Josef turned away. Detonation. "How can you say you love me like a brother and—"

"No." Josef stopped him cold with one word. "I would do anything for you and Beth." His voice shook with the force of his emotion, a rare event in history. "Don't say shit like that to me."

Unable to hold the intensity of their gaze, Mick flung himself away, stalking over to the window. "Maybe I should cut up Coraline into one hundred pieces, put them in baggies, and burn them to ash. Then dump the ash in a vat of acid. Would that work, do you think?"

"Calm down!"

"You calm down!" Mick returned, clearly not. "I find out my ex-wife – that I thought was dead _twice_ now, is still alive. I have no idea what she's up to, but I know it probably puts Beth in danger."

"And she didn't pull all this off by herself." Mick's head whipped around at Josef's words, seeing the almost pained expression on his face. "She didn't vanish from the morgue without help."

Mick closed his eyes a moment, then opened them and looked at Josef. "Guillermo," he said reluctantly.

Josef nodded toward Hank. "Let's torture whatever info we can out of this guy, call the cleaner, and then pay Guillermo a little visit."

Mick went over to Mottolo and pulled the stake from his chest. This time he barely moved except to roll over to his side, weak from the repeated staking and lack of blood. "Okay, let's have a little talk."

"I'm not gonna tell you anything. You're going to kill me anyway, why should I?"

Josef smiled at him, pushing him onto his back with a foot. "Well, see, that's the good thing about torturing vampires. I'm betting you have a low pain tolerance, am I right? We can inflict horrible agony for hours on end, without worrying about you dying on us. It's just a question of how long you can take it until you beg for mercy."

"If you let me live I can lead you to Coraline," he tried to bargain.

"No offense, but if I don't even trust my best friend I'm not going to trust _you_," Mick told him.

"Sorry, we're just going to have to torture you first," Josef informed him.

XXX

Guillermo didn't seem surprised to see Mick and Josef when they arrived. He just nodded, grabbed his glass of blood, and followed him into an empty room. "I figured you'd be back," he admitted to Mick.

"Why?" Mick asked with a hint of pain in his voice.

Guillermo didn't pretend not to know what Mick referred to. "It's what we _do_– it's what I do," he defended. "A vampire gets themselves into a bad situation, gets mistaken for dead and ends up here, it's my job to get them out of it and protect the community."

"Yes it is," Josef agreed. "But you could have done a guy you've known for years a favor and picked up the phone. You did today. You had to know it was Beth who shot her. That's just not nice."

Guillermo's eyes darted from one vamp to the other nervously, obviously worried about having someone with Josef's reputation unhappy with him.

"Do I make you uncomfortable?" Josef asked, slinging a casual arm around him. "You should have thought of that before," he told him.

The truth was that Guillermo _was_ only doing his job, strictly speaking. They couldn't totally find him guilty, just wish it hadn't turned out the way it did. Based on that, there was really only one course of action to take.

"How long have you been here now, Guillermo?" Josef asked him.

"Uh, about twelve years."

"I think it's about time to relocate, don't you?"

Guillermo sighed. "Yeah, I guess it is. Terence has been wanting my shift for awhile now, he'll be happy."

Josef patted his back. "I hear Alaska is nice this time of year."

Guillermo's eyes widened, then, his shoulders slumped in resignation. "Better than the alternative."

"Yes," Josef agreed. "Yes it is."

XXX

"So what are you planning to do about Coraline?" Josef asked Mick when they were back at his house again.

"You have any suggestions?"

"You could go on the offensive. Go after her. But one thing you have to remember: she's older, crazier, and stronger than you."

"Maybe not. We really don't know what happens when someone who takes the cure gets turned again. For all we know, she's like a fledgling again." Mick wouldn't admit it, but his male pride was kicking in with a vengeance. He wanted to face off with her himself so bad he could taste it.

Josef of course, wasn't fooled for a minute. "So basically you've already made up your mind. Why do you always do this? Pretend to be asking me for advice when you've already made up your mind? "

Mick had to acknowledge the truth of that. "Her and I are gonna settle this – once and for all."

Josef began muttering to himself. "I'm giving him the benefit of my wisdom, and my 400 years of experience as a strategist, and he just…" his hands flailed in the air. "And he just goes off like some, some caveman, running on emotions and ignoring brains."

Mick raised an eyebrow at him. "Did you just call me a caveman?" Josef shrugged. "That is so condescending," he told Josef, grin threatening to break out.

"What about Beth?" he asked Mick abruptly.

Mick's expression clouded. He was struggling with the issue of HOW to tell Beth that Coraline was still alive. He knew he had to, as much as he might want to spare her from the worry, he couldn't be that hypocritical.

"Josef – if anything happens to me, not just now but ever…"

Josef put a hand on his shoulder. "You don't even have to say it, you know that."

"Right now I'm going to go home and try to hit the freezer for a couple of hours. It's been a long day."

"Mick," Josef stopped him at the door. "When you go after her – come and get me first, okay?"

Mick smiled slightly. "I thought you were just the brains and I was the brawn?"

"I am. That's why I'm coming along."

XXX

Beth scratched her arm nervously. Mick was due home any minute and she wasn't looking forward to talking to him about Josh. She wished he'd just come over tonight; get it over with so her imagination could stop dreaming up unpleasant possibilities for his visit.

As if thinking about him conjured his presence, a weary-looking Mick let himself into the apartment. One look at his face told her volumes. "Looks like you haven't had a very good day either," she surmised.

"I would kill for just a few hours in deep freeze," he admitted, wrapping his arms around her and soaking up the comfort of her arms.

"There's something I need to talk to you about first," she began, deciding to just get it out immediately. "Josh wants to come over tomorrow night."

"Josh?" he said distractedly as if the name didn't compute.

"He wants to talk to us. He's coming over tomorrow night at eight."

Mick rolled his eyes. "This is _so_ not a good time. I've got this case…"

"I don't think he's taking no for an answer. He wants to talk to us. _Us_, Mick. In your office."

"What are you saying?"

"I don't know, but it makes me nervous."

"Just great. As if we don't have enough problems."

"What problems?"

"We need to talk."

Not a good sign. Especially when he led her over to the couch and sat down with her.

"I don't know any good way to break this to you… The situation at the morgue was two vampires, one dead and one staked. The one staked was Hank Mottola, the guy—"

"The vamp working with Coraline that killed his girlfriend!" Beth finished for him. "I don't think I'm liking where this is going."

"Depends I suppose," Mick added wryly. "At least you don't have to feel guilty about killing Coraline."

"No…" she whispered.

"Yes," Mick told her with reluctance. "She's not dead."

"How can she not be dead?" Beth asked in a rising voice. "She _has_ to be dead!" she insisted.

"She was turned again after you shot her. Vampire impersonating a cop."

"What do we do now?"

"Not we," Mick told her firmly. "Me. I want you far away from her. Safe. I'll handle it."

"Mick—"

"No, Beth. This one isn't open for discussion."

"The hell it's not! You think I'm going to let you go up against Coraline alone?!"

Mick's eyes flashed in anger. "You're not gonna _let_ me?"

She backed down just a bit. "At least take Josef with you."

"Are you saying you don't have any faith in me to deal with the situation?"

"No, that's not what I mean!" she denied vehemently. "I'm just worried, you know that."

"Same difference, isn't it?" He took her shoulders almost bruisingly tight. "This is what you signed up for. This is who I am! My life isn't safe, or comfortable, you knew that, didn't you?" He asked desperately. "If you wanted a normal, safe, boring life you should've married Josh, not me."

Beth stared at him, stunned by his words. After a moment he released her and went to stand by the window, his back to her.

"You're right," she finally said. "I'm sorry."

"Think about what I said, while I'm gone," Mick asked, still not looking at her.

"Mick, no! That's not fair. It's just that I love you _so_ much…"

"Just think about it," he repeated, heading for the door. He stopped just as he was about to reach for the knob and instead strode quickly back to Beth, giving her a tight hug and passionate kiss. "I love you more than my life. I'll be back." It was a promise.

She stared at the closed door for a long time after he left, wiping at the tears on her cheeks.

XXX

_What do you do when you still love a woman who dumped you for another man, and circumstances keep bringing her into your life again? How do you learn to let go? And what do you do when you KNOW something weird is going on, and that she's smack in the middle of it? Part of you wants to protect her; part knows that's pointedly no longer your job. Maybe you didn't do it well enough in the first place, maybe it's HER life and you should butt out, you're not sure. And when it might have something to do with YOUR job, your duty to the people of the city you've sworn to protect… then you can't let go._

XXX

Beth sat in Mick's office, fingers drumming nervously on the desk, compulsively checking the clock every few seconds. Josh was due any minute, and Mick wasn't there. It hurt to know that he'd left her to deal with Josh alone. Since leaving her to hunt for Coraline he hadn't even called, instead opting to text her a few times just to let her know he was okay. He was alone. She knew this because she'd spotted Josef's Ferrari around the corner on several occasions and didn't have to see him all the time to know he was following her around. He had obviously been given babysitting duty instead.

Even though she was expecting it, when the knock came at the door she jumped. Smoothing down her dress and trying to smooth her emotions at the same time, she took a deep breath and opened it.

"Hello Beth."

"Hi Josh. Come on in."

He looked as awkward as she was nervous. He tapped a manila file folder against his thigh. Instead of sitting at the desk, she motioned for him to take a seat on the couch, and joined him there.

Josh glanced around the office. "Where's Mick?"

"I'm afraid Mick couldn't be here. He's in the middle of a really important case. Life and death stuff, you know," she said, annoyed at having to make excuses for him.

"Well I need to do this now; I've already put it off long enough. And I'm going out of town tomorrow on a case of my own." He gave her a half smile. "_Way_ off the record – I'm really close to breaking the Tejada case," he told her.

"That's great news!" Beth exclaimed, happy for him. She appreciated all the hard work he'd put into it over the months, and how much it meant to him to get the drug lord behind bars for good. "You've been working hard on nailing him for over a year now."

"Thanks. I want this scum so bad I can almost taste it. It won't be long now."

Silence fell, and nervousness returned. "Would you like a cup of coffee or anything?" Beth offered.

"No, thanks. Let's just, ah, do this…" Josh picked up the folder from the table and cleared his throat. "I once told you that things had gotten really weird ever since you started hanging around with Mick St. John. I'm a DA, I'm not stupid. I knew there was something hinky about him, but I… I looked the other way a lot of times, ignored things I wouldn't have otherwise because of you."

The butterflies in Beth's stomach turned to knots, growing ever tighter as Josh continued. Like a noose. "Or maybe you were suspicious because you were jealous," she countered.

"That too," he admitted. "There were times I _knew_ you were involved some way in something that had to be…less than on the legal up-and-up. I want you to know that you weren't fooling me. I chose to ignore it because I loved you."

"What do you want me to say?" she whispered. "I'm sorry I fell in love with someone else. I never wanted to hurt you."

"And I don't want to hurt you."

"Then don't," Beth pleaded.

"I don't intend to, but I do need to know the truth now."

"What truth?" Beth asked, feeling slightly hysterical. "The truth? Mick and I fell in love and got married. He's a P.I. who risks his life to protect the innocent who need him, and I like helping him do that. There's nothing going on here that has to concern you."

"This file is part of an investigation I've been doing, privately. It's Mick's."

Beth stared at it as if willing herself to suddenly develop X-ray eyes to see the contents.

"At first I was just frustrated and confused. Most of the stuff didn't make any sense, what I was seeing was impossible. I kept track of everything anyway, hoping a pattern would show itself. And when it finally did… I thought maybe I was going crazy."

Outwardly Beth fought to keep control, inside she was screaming for him to stop talking, for an earthquake to conveniently hit and avert the pending disaster. Even a serial killer breaking the door down would be a welcome diversion.

"Our criminal law professor was always reminding us that the biggest mistake we could make would be to ignore Occam's razor. It's actually trickier than it seems in the text book – but it still works." He opened up the folder and glanced at the contents. "I'll start at the beginning. You meet this mysterious PI named Mick St. John at a crime scene. The dead woman has puncture wounds in her neck and is drained of blood. He's working to solve the murder, but there's no apparent client paying for it. Seeing as how the woman is dead and none of her family or friends knows anything about hiring a detective, I had to wonder why he was so interested in the case."

"He was helping _me_ with my investigation, because I asked him to. And a crazy teacher's aide or whatever was the killer. He almost killed me – Mick saved me," she defended.

"Oh yeah, about that. The nutty professor told me a really weird story about what happened when Mick came looking for you. I dismissed it at the time, him not being a very credible witness. And then of course we have the Lee Jay thing."

"Lee Jay was framing Mick and you know it! You helped him clear himself!"

"Yes, that's true. But it doesn't explain why there's a picture of a man named Mick St. John in the book 'Wronged Man' that happens to look exactly like your Mick. Problem being the picture looks like it's from the fifties or something and that Mick St. John was involved in the Lee Jay case over twenty years ago."

"He's—"

"Don't bother giving me the 'father' story," Josh interrupted her. "We both know there's no record of him. Although Bobby Desmond _does_ believe that his friend Mick St. John whom he's known for 35 years, is alive and well and still in L.A."

"How long have you been investigating us?" Beth asked accusingly.

"I'm the ADA," Josh said by way of answer. "Then one night I surprise you with dinner at Buzz Wire only to find you researching vampires on the net, as it suddenly seems to be your new obsession. What with all the stories and weird murders and all."

_He said the V word… He said… _Her brain wanted to shut down, maybe go take a nice nap. She felt like she should be saying more, saying _something_… but all she could do was listen in growing alarm.

"I won't bother getting into the weird way he works a crime scene, but suffice to say I've never met a man who claims he can smell estrogen in blood before." He pinned Beth with a piercing gaze. "And then you showed up after going out to meet him in the desert with strange puncture wounds on your wrist that you claimed you got from a chain link fence."

They stared at each other for a long moment. Beth felt her face flame as the knowledge passed between them. _He was dying_, she wanted to say. _It wasn't like that._

"After that was the whole incident with the weird designer drug B.C., and disappearing evidence and a convenient warehouse explosion. I'm sure there's more I've missed, I'm not reading from the file – Jesus, Beth, do I have to keep going?!"

"No." What else could she say? What the hell was she going to say?

"Is Mick St. John a vampire?"

Beth's hand flew to her mouth, a moment later she was vomiting into the wastebasket.

"Well. You didn't start laughing hysterically, and you didn't look at me like I'm either crazy or smoking something illegal. I think that speaks for itself."

Beth was about as close to panicking as she'd ever been. He knew. Denying wasn't going to change that fact. He had too much evidence. "Why are you telling me all this?" she finally managed.

"Because I want you to explain it to me. I want the truth."

"The truth is that Mick St. John is a good man, who saved my life more than once and too many others to count. He almost died protecting your witness Lenny, and he's honest and caring and honorable. If everyone was like him, you'd be out of a job because there'd be no criminals to arrest. That's the truth."

"But is he also a vampire?"

Beth pulled her composure around her like a cloak. Talking about all that Mick was had helped, she felt stronger. There was only one thing to do. "Before I say anything else I need to ask you a favor."

Josh looked at her incredulously, but nodded.

"I'm going to ask you to wait here a minute. I'll be right back. Then we can continue the discussion. Please just wait."

"Okay," he finally agreed.

XXX

"Josef."

Josef opened his eyes to regard Beth. She was standing next to the driver's side of his car. He'd heard her coming of course, but decided to play possum.

"Beth. Fancy meeting you here!" he feigned surprise.

"I don't have time for that, we've got a big problem."

"We?"

Some of her urgency and upset bled into her voice again. "I assume you know Josh is upstairs – he's got a file on Mick. He asked me if Mick was a vampire."

"_Fuck_!" Josef exclaimed and jumped out of the car. "What did you tell him?!" he demanded.

"Nothing. I didn't know what to say. But he's waiting for an explanation."

"If anything like this ever happens again – deny, deny. But it's too late for that now, not answering, coming out here, it's too suspicious."

"Even if I had denied it outright, I _know_ Josh. He wouldn't come here and confront me without being sure of himself, and he wouldn't just let it go."

"Then he just signed his own death warrant."

"No! You can't just kill a D.A., I mean, that would arouse suspicion…"

"There are ways."

"He's a good man," she implored, laying a hand on Josef's arm. "I don't want to see him hurt."

"There are only two types of humans: friends – and enemies. There's no room for in between," he told her.

XXX

The door opened and Beth stood there for a moment, looking sheepish, guilty, and worried. Then she stepped aside and a man entered the office, however it wasn't the one Josh was expecting to see.

"Josef Kostan?!" Josh said, clearly surprised.

"Well, I'm sure as hell not Mick St. John." He strolled into the room as Beth perched nervously on the edge of a chair. Josh looked at her questioningly, but she wouldn't meet his eyes.

Josef sat down on the chair behind Mick's desk. "Okay, listen up. This is how it's going to happen if you're not smart. There are influential people in this town – people that your job depends upon, who have a vested interest in the subject you two have been discussing here tonight."

"Are you saying local government?"

"_Everywhere_," Josef stressed. "So at the least, your career is history. Most likely, _you're_ history." He paused significantly. "So is Beth."

"What? Why?!" Josh exclaimed.

"That is the reality of the situation, and none of us – not even me – have the power to change it."

Josh looked at Beth. "What have you got yourself involved in?"

"It's not like that," she insisted. "I'm… in a way you wouldn't understand and I can't tell you I'm _part_ of it. But these are good people, important and contributing members of society who just want the right to live and love and survive without fearing for their existence." She glanced at Josef, wondering if she should have spoken up and hoping she'd said the right thing. His slight nod reassured her.

Josef folded his hands in front of him thoughtfully. "If the Jews had all been in hiding and mostly incognito when Hitler was sending them to the death camps, how do you think they might have dealt with anyone, Jew or gentile, who revealed them to the Nazi's?"

Josh digested that for a moment. "That's not meant to be an exaggerated analogy, is it?"

Josef shook his head. "No. It's not. Hitler thought he had a good reason for exterminating all of them. They didn't chose to be born of a race that some murdering dictator was going to decide wasn't worthy of surviving, and they didn't deserve what happened to them. _Different_ has always been a reason for genocide in history, and it's one I've always personally most detested. What makes a person human? Is it that we're able to think and reason, use opposable thumbs and recognize ourselves in a mirror? That we have a soul, and are capable of living and loving and feeling pain? Or is it to be based on what we eat for dinner and how long we live? _Humans_," he declared. "Have so little compassion and mercy for anyone not of their species, but I don't hold it against you much because you have even less for your _own_ kind."

"In my line of work, I can't exactly disagree with you," Josh allowed, thinking of serial killers without a conscience and soul-less drug lords.

"I'm sorry, that's not meant to be a criticism." His eyes flickered to Beth than back. "Some of my best friends are human," he offered with a small grin.

"So you're saying Bram Stroker had it all wrong."

"More than you will ever know."

"And I'm supposed to just say thanks for enlightening me, and go back to life as it was?"

"No, life – if you choose to still have it – will never be the same again. I won't lie to you, it's going to be a challenge for a morally uptight A.D.A. such as yourself to reconcile."

"You mean like when evidence disappears and cases fall apart," Josh said, glancing at Beth again.

Josef nodded. "Then there's the matter of justice. Yours moves slowly and clumsily, and isn't quite sure of itself. Ours is swift and final. We deal with those of us who don't follow the rules, and no, no mercy there. We can't afford any. We punish our own as severely as we protect them. We don't have the dubious luxury of juries and trials and court systems."

"What kind of rules are we talking about here?"

"Killing," Beth piped up. "Breaking the laws our government has made."

"Well, not quite _all_ of them," Josef couldn't help adding with a sly grin.

"I'm going to need to know more before I form an opinion."

"Like an _opinion_ is going to do anything for you? You only have two choices: friend or enemy. But I'll give you the Cliff Notes version. We don't tolerate indiscriminate killing. There are plenty of willing donors, and for individuals who find that kind of mutual pleasure not to their liking, there's bagged available. Again, no humans were hurt in the making of dinner. Does it ever happen? Regrettably yes. When it does it's dealt with."

Josh looked dazed by the information. He threw yet another glance Beth's way. "What about that, uh, what do you call it? Mesmerizing thing, where y—uh, they can look at people and make them do their bidding…?"

Josef laughed, nodding his head towards Beth. "You know 'Nora' here intimately, you really believe anyone can make her do _anything_ she doesn't want to do?! Old wives' tale." Well, there were sort-of exceptions to that, but Josh wasn't about to get the unvarnished truth, just the humanized version. "Too bad though."

"I'm not being coerced."

"No, you coerce others," Josef shot back.

"Hey, maybe that's one of _my_ special abilities!" she considered brightly.

"We're all in trouble," Josef muttered.

"Why are you even giving me a choice?" Josh asked, breaking into their banter. "I'm a threat, right?"

"We could have a mutually beneficial relationship."

"Quid pro quo," Beth said quietly.

"Doesn't sound like it's much of a decision, does it? Be a friend and get insider information, be an enemy and get dead."

"See, I knew you were smart."

"What did you think would happen?" Beth wanted to know. Did you _think_ before you came here?"

"Not as much as I should have," Josh admitted.

"What did you _want_ to happen?" Josef inquired. "That they'd have a reasonable explanation for everything and you'd feel all embarrassed and silly? Or get the truth – and what? Arrest Mick for not being the same species? What were your motives?" Josef was very interested in those.

"I just wanted the truth, and to know Beth was safe. I guess I wasn't thinking much beyond that."

"Ah, the old curiosity/cat thing."

"Believe me, I'm safer than I'd be anywhere else. You know how many times Mick has saved me."

"And with her propensity for getting herself into trouble," Josef added. "She _needs_ her own personal guardian angel."

"Or two of them," she smiled at him.

Josh had been watching the exchanges intently, the obvious affection they had for each other. "I get the feeling you two are good friends."

"That fact that I'm here talking with you now proves I'd do almost anything for her."

"You exposed yourself to help Beth," Josh said as if just realizing the significance of it.

"I know you're an honorable person as well. I trust we can work this out and insure everyone's safety."

"I have about a million questions," Josh said ruefully. "But I have a feeling I'm not going to be getting much more tonight."

"Need to know basis," Josef agreed.

"Okay." Josh seemed to pull himself together. "Okay. I've got a lot to process here, and I've already taken up a lot of your valuable time. I'm going to leave now," he stated as if still not entirely sure he'd be allowed to.

"It's been _so_ nice talking with you," Josef told him in a tone that was both unnaturally sweet and sarcastic at the same time.

Beth followed Josh to the door, and gave him a hug. "Be smart," she whispered.

"I'd still like to talk to Mick," he told her.

"I'll definitely let him know."

After Josh had left, Beth collapsed on the couch in relief.

Josef came around the desk and joined her. "I think that went pretty well. Even if it _was_ against my better judgment to let him live."

"He won't talk."

"Let's hope he doesn't -- for _all_ our sakes."

Josef pulled out his cell phone, and punched in a number. When he spoke again, it was brief and to the point. "It's Kostan. I want level 2 surveillance put on Josh Lindsey immediately." He ended the call and put the phone away.

"What's level 2?"

"Not a certain threat, but urgent enough for close watch."

"I'm gonna kill Mick," Beth told him.

"You're gonna have to stand in line." The hard edge to his voice said he wasn't joking.

XXX

After an almost sleepless night of tossing and turning, Beth got up early and prepared for her day. Before she left for work, she sent a text message of her own, to Mick. It simply said:

COME HOME TONIGHT. OR DON'T BOTHER COMING HOME.

XXX

PART THREE: The Devil's in the details

Josef turned in a complete circle, taking in everything around him, which was trees, grass, weeds – lots of weeds. Oh, and sunshine. He couldn't forget the sun, since it was stabbing at his eyes despite the dark sunglasses.

"Tell me again why I'm out here in the middle of a field in the middle of the day, with you, looking for a needle in a haystack?"

"Because I asked you to," Beth answered.

"Ah, of course. This is impossible, you know that. The police have already combed every inch of this area, and I'm sure they had the cadaver dogs out as well."

"But they didn't have _you_," she pointed out.

"You really think flattery will get you somewhere?"

"You're here, aren't you?"

"Point taken. But I fail to see what you expect me to do here."

"Can't you do that smelling thing?"

"That _smelling_ thing?? Well, for one thing, the murders were committed a long time ago. And for all we know he disposed of the victims near where he found them, and never brought them home."

"Okay, let's brainstorm. We'll start with the easiest supposition to prove or disprove. Assume for the moment that at least some of them are here. We should also start with the house, because we can quickly eliminate it."

Josef spread his arms in capitulation. "Lead on, Nora."

Luckily Morgan's closest neighbor was almost a mile away, so there was no one to discover the duo as they made their way to the house. Ducking under the yellow police tape across the back door, Beth prepared to pick the lock.

Josef shoved a pair of latex gloves at her. "Put these on first."

"You came prepared."

"So did you," Josef countered, nodding to the lock picking set in her hand. "You're just full of surprises, aren't you?"

"Old boyfriend in college taught me," Beth explained, as she opened the door with a flourish.

"That must be some story."

"I could tell you – but then I'd have to kill you."

"Tough luck, I'm already dead," Josef joked back. "Hey, maybe the bodies are hidden in the refrigerator!" he exclaimed in mock excitement, opening up the door. "Nope, no bodies."

"Get serious," Beth warned him. "I _really_ want to find them. It would be a nice show of faith to Josh; the D.A. wouldn't have to make the deal with Morgan and he'd owe us – not to mention me getting another exclusive story."

"I do love ambition in a woman."

They made quick work of checking the kitchen and then moved on to the living room.

Beth gave the room a cursory once over. "I really don't expect to find anything here; the crime lab team has surely been all over this place."

Josef was walking carefully around the room, taking in everything with his eyes and nose. Something about the alert look on his face made her suspect she might have to eat her words. "There's something…"

"What?" she barked.

Instead of answering, he continued his circuit of the room. Then, he halted as if he'd walked into a wall. "I smell human remains – and one vampire."

Her head whipped around the room nervously. "There's a vampire here?"

"Not a live one."

"One of his victims was a vampire??"

"Well, that put's a new wrinkle in the proceedings." Josef stalked the room again, feeling the walls and stomping on the floor. He stopped in the narrow hallway between the living room and the bedroom. "There!" he told her. "Trap door." Hunkering down by the wall, he pointed at the edge of the carpet. "Look at this. The rug has been pulled back at some point."

"Oh my god – how did they miss this?"

"I think the vamp remains probably threw the dogs off, confused them and masked the human ones." He began prying the rug back from the floor.

"Oh great, now we can add tampering with evidence to our resume."

"Yeah, well, I don't have X-ray eyes, and under the circumstances I need to check it out."

When the door was revealed, Josef paused before he opened it. "Are you ready for this?" he asked her solicitously.

"I hang out at the morgue," she snapped.

It turned out it was Josef who reeled back when the door was pulled open. In the filtered light coming in from the bay window in the room Beth could just make out the bones. She glanced at Josef to find him looked decidedly pale – even for a vampire. He rose and walked over to the window

Beth followed, putting a hand on his arm. "Are you okay?"

"I guess I was able to get something that old because it was a vampire, or maybe because the trauma was so intense…"

"What happened?"

"I think he unwittingly chose the vamp as one of his victims, then got lucky and accidentally staked her with a knife. The knife is there with the bones. Can you imagine dying like that? Slowly, unable to move, starving and surrounded by human bodies that may still have had some blood in them but unable to get any?" He shuddered.

They were silent in a moment of respect for the dead. Beth thought about the horror and agony that ALL of the victims must have experienced, but understood Josef's keen empathy for the vamp.

"That's one body they won't be able to ID."

"I wonder if she had any loved ones to miss her?" she said quietly. "It's too bad there's no way to find out who she was."

"I'll put the word out in the community, that's about all anyone can do," Josef said quietly, touched by her compassion.

"Now what?"

"Now we put things back the way we found them and make that 'anonymous' tip call to your ex."

XXX

_"Mercy for the Devil? Not this time. Acting on an anonymous tip, police today found the remains of the victims of serial killer Jonathan Morgan at his residence. The bodies were discovered in a hidden crawl space under the house. With nothing left for Morgan to bargain with, the execution will go ahead as scheduled. The bodies are still in the process of being identified, but the DA believes all of the missing are now accounted for. This is Beth St. John, reporting for Buzz wire."_

XXX

The general public sees detective shows on the TV and thinks it's a constant thrill ride, but even a vampire PI has plenty of hours of tedium. Mick spent over twenty four roaming L.A., questioning everyone he could think of to see if anyone knew anything about Coraline's. Pounding the pavement, as boring as it may be, often yields fruits. The kumquat in this case was Coraline's best friend, Cynthia.

After that he spent several more hours staking her out in the hopes that she would eventually lead him to Coraline. If anyone knew where she was, it would be Cynthia, and he didn't believe for a minute it was a coincidence that she was in town.

Mick sat in his car, clutching a steel travel cup filled with blood in hands that weren't as steady as they could have been. He'd been diligent about making sure he didn't go hungry, but even a vampire needs down time and he hadn't seen his freezer in… well, he didn't remember and that was a sure sign it was too long.

Coraline always _did_ have impeccable timing.

He stared down at the cell phone that was sitting on the seat next to him, thinking about honeymoons and nightmares and text messages. He knew Beth thought he was obsessed again. How could he explain this compulsion, this need to DO something? He'd go insane if he had to sit around waiting for her to make a move. What else could he do?

Take someone with you, a little voice in his head said. He couldn't decide if it sounded like Josef or Beth. "Shut up," he said anyway.

He had to make the first move. This was _his_ fight, and he wasn't going to drag anyone else into it to fight it for him. The fact that he had no idea what he was going to do when he found her… well, that wasn't something he chose to dwell on. He had other things to think about. Like whether he was removing obstacles to his happy life or destroying it.

When Cynthia came out of the hotel and drove away in her rental car, Mick quickly followed.

XXX

The building was in shambles now, but Mick remembered it well. No matter how long you live, you never forget the night you died, or where you were. Or who you were with. He waited until Cynthia had disappeared inside before following silently. The element of surprise would only be on his side if Coraline was distracted, but he still held hope.

Mick flattened himself against the wall in what used to be the lobby, hearing the voices coming from the adjoining kitchen. He never did get a chance to sample the hotel breakfast the morning after his wedding night. He'd been planning on ordering the eggs benedict. Funny the things you remember. And then there are the things you wish you'd forgotten, but know you never will.

"Did you bring it?" Coraline was asking.

"Right here," Cynthia's voice answered. "But I don't understand why you had me bring it here. Why didn't you just come to my hotel?"

"That's sweetheart, you're the best!" Coraline told her, and he heard a rustling sound he presumed was a hug. "I'll talk to you later; maybe we can hit the town while you're here."

"We'd better!" her friend told her.

"Mick!" Coraline suddenly called. "I knew you'd show up sooner or later. Are we playing hide and seek?" She actually sounded thrilled to see him.

So much for distraction. He stepped into the room and faced her, with a half smile and a shake of his head. "What do you want, Coraline?"

"What do I want? You came to me. What do _you_ want?"

_You out of my life forever?_

"I want to know what game is next on your agenda."

"How about a kiss hello first?"

He laughed. "As I'm sure you know, I'm married now."

"Yeah, and I'm afraid that makes you a bigamist. But then you thought you were a widower, didn't you?"

"_Why_?" he asked with an emotion filled voice. "Isn't it bad enough you turned me against my will? Can you tell me why you can't leave me alone to live this life you cursed me with?"

"Why did you hurt me?" she countered, sounding genuinely wounded. "You told me you'd love me forever. You promised! Then when I gave you that, so we could be _together_, you decided you didn't want me anymore. I want to understand."

"You want…" he couldn't quite believe what he was hearing. "You can't even imagine the horror I felt, can you?"

"Did you ever love me, or was that a lie too?"

Mick stared at her, thrown off balance. "I…" Could it be true that he'd never tried to see the situation from _her_ (admittedly warped) perspective?

"Did you love me – just answer me that."

"Why do you think it hurt so much," he finally whispered. Something inside him was telling him he should leave, right now. Reminding him that this is why he needed an impartial observer. Instead he found himself rooted to the spot.

"I knew it. After all we've been through together. All the years. You _know_ it's not over between us. If it was you wouldn't be here."

As he contemplated her words in growing horror, a sense of déjà vu flooded Mick, and it was as if the years had melted away and he was back there again, in that insanity he'd been a part of.

He'd been a part of it.

And now, if he'd held out any hope that he could 'reason' with her, he was an idiot. He only had two choices, ironically the same choices he was faced with every time. Either kill her, or play her game. The hard steel of the dagger hidden under his coat felt oppressive. Memories flashed across his brain: a cabin, stake, fire… Living with that knowledge every day after, the knowledge that he'd murdered his sire. His wife. Seeing her supposedly dead body in the morgue decades later. Dead again.

Dead again.

She didn't understand. She'd never understand, because…

_Because she loves you. She **really **loves you. In fifty six years she's never moved on, lost interest, found someone else. In her own twisted, irrational way, but she doesn't understand. She can't understand why you rejected her and you can't understand why she killed you but you killed her too…_

"We're both very sick," he finally told her.

Who was he? Mick St. John the guardian angel, defender of the innocent and Beth's knight in shining armor? Or the obsessed, tormented, depraved man he knew from those memories he couldn't banish no matter how hard he tried?

Coraline was moving closer, sliding sensuously against his body. "You can't tell me you don't still feel something for me… I know you do."

I'm not the same man. He wanted to tell her, but something stopped him at the last minute. She wouldn't understand that either and it would be dangerous if she did.

"Is that a sword in your coat or are you just unhappy to see me?" she breathed. Then she moved away and held her hair back from her neck. "Do you want me dead so badly, Mick? If you hate me that much, go ahead and do it. Just get it over with."

Mick started at her exposed neck. He had a brief daydream about reaching into his coat, bringing up the sword, swinging it through the air and through flesh and bone… His hands shook like an alcoholic in detox.

"Kill me."

He closed his eyes, and slumped, all the fight going out of him. He couldn't do it. If he killed her in cold blood, he _wouldn't_ be the man he claimed to be. The one he'd struggled so hard to become. Just another cold blooded monster.

That only left the old standby: option B.

"I'm not going to kill you," he told her, knowing she'd misinterpret it, think he was still in love with her. But if she believed that, maybe he could keep her contained. She'd gone over twenty years without doing anything harmful, maybe he could find a way to buy another twenty?

Coraline came closer again. "I've got something for you," she told him, pulling a vial from her pocket. "This is it. The cure. Rare, and oh so valuable. This is what I wanted to tell you about, but I never got the chance. I wanted to undo what I did, give you back what you lost."

It was also like a master chess game, trying to understand Coraline and chose the right counter moves. She _could_ be sincere – or she might be trying to test him, tempt him with the one thing she thought he wanted. Give him back what he lost so he could be human with Beth? Not likely. Not a snowballs chance in hell. It was a test and he needed to pass it.

"You really think I care about the cure?" Mick took the vial out of her hands and smashed it on the floor. It felt like freedom; Independence Day. In spite of everything, he knew beyond a doubt he'd fully accepted himself because he felt absolutely no remorse at destroying his chance at being human again. In every way that counted – he was already human. He had his soul back and he was going to keep it, no matter the cost. "Who died to make that, Coraline?"

"Argh!" she exclaimed, pulling at her hair. "You're the only man I've never understood!" Probably one of the most honest things she'd ever said to him – and he was taking it as a compliment. "You spend fifty years wanting to be human again and now I offer to give it to you and you don't want it?!"

Mick shrugged, feigning nonchalance. "Guess I've finally done what you always tried to get me to do. Accept what I am."

She narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously. "It's not because of Beth, I hope? Because you know you're going to have to watch her grow old and die, and long before that she's going to stop being that hot little blond she is now."

He kept his face impassive through sheer force of will.

"Or do you think you're going to turn her and live happily ever after?" She shook her head. "I've got a newsflash for you, Mick – you _can't_ turn her. She's a half breed, it doesn't work."

It was crystal clear. He wanted Beth to live forever, to be with him. The doubts he'd had, the ambivalence, back and forth see saw of emotions shattered like the glass at his feet. Up until now he'd been in denial, thinking of it as something _she_ wanted, that he was attempting to be okay with. Even after he agreed, it was always a vague notion, something to relegate to some distant future.

The crystal shattered.

"I can wait, you know. I'm not going anywhere, and I've got nothing but time. Eventually Beth will grow old, and you won't desire her anymore. I'll still be here. I'll always be here. I _know_ you; you'll come back just like you always do."

She kissed him. He let it happen, still shocked by her revelation. Keep it together, play the game… His hand itched to wrap around the handle of the sword, but he reminded himself that he wanted her alive. Needed her alive, she knew things he wanted to know, about the cure and half breeds…

She's lying. God, she _has_ to be lying… But he thought of nightmares and tasting wedding cake, and if he was starting to get some human sensations back just from taking some of Beth's blood once in awhile, and if her blood was the cure, what would happen when he drained her and all of her blood was in his body?

_If her blood is the cure, and you take the cure, how can you turn her?_

Mick shuddered from the force of his emotions; Coraline wrongly interpreted it as desire. "I've missed you, Mick," she crooned.

"And you're willing to let me spend a few years with Beth, just step aside and wait?"

Coraline laughed lightly, and it was a curiously pleasant sound, reminding him of bells. "Oh, Mick, darling, I sometimes forget you're so young yet! No one could love just one person for all of eternity, expecting that would be… well, unreasonable. There are so many men and women out there to sample. I understand. And you will too, when you're older."

That was a cynical idea he didn't even want to contemplate. Maybe he was still a young and naïve vampire, but he wanted to live with his illusions awhile longer. Didn't think he could live without them.

"What do we do now?" he asked, and it wasn't entirely to Coraline. He wasn't going to be able to hold it together much longer; he had to get out of there, somewhere where he could have his breakdown.

_Beth… It can't be true. We're supposed to be together forever._

Coraline sighed. "I supposed you want to go back to the little blond. I had a thing for a blond once too, did I ever tell you about him? Well maybe someday I will. I'm going to spend a few days doing girl stuff with Cynthia, you know shopping, clubbing." She pressed a piece of paper into his hand. "Here's my number, you can call me next week. If you want, we can spend some time together. If not…" she sighed. "I'll wait. Maybe I'll look up the blond, see what he'd doing these days…"

_The worse lies we tell are the ones we tell ourselves. I've have to face my own lately. Couldn't help but wonder what lies Coraline told herself?_

XXX

One minute Josef was at his desk catching up on some financial business he'd neglected while spending the day as Beth's bloodhound, the next he was up against the wall with a frantic Mick holding him up by the lapels.

"Tell me it's true – tell me you _know_ Beth can be turned – that half breeds can be turned."

Josef gazed at him, unperturbed by his semi-hysterical friend. "Yes, they can."

"You _have_ to be sure!"

"I am, believe me."

"How do you know?!" he demanded.

"Because I was one."

Mick let go, stumbling back in shock. "You're a half breed?"

"I _was_ a half breed. Now I'm a vampire," he replied sardonically.

Mick almost collapsed in relief, finding his way to the chair and falling into it. "Thank you."

"What the hell happened? Did you find Coraline?"

"Yeah."

"Is she dead?"

"No."

"_No_?!"

"I… I'll tell you about it sometime.

"Sometime?! I ought to kick your ass! Do you know what kind of mess you left me to clean up here?"

"Mess?" Mick seemed to come back to the here and now. "What happened? Why aren't you watching Beth?"

"She's with Aldo, it was his shift," Josef replied tartly. "Boy, that bitch really does still have you under her spell, doesn't she?"

"No!" Mick denied.

"Then tell me why you were running all over L.A. because of her, and I had to do your job and have a long talk with Josh Lindsey – about vampires."

"_What_?"

"You heard me. And after that I had to tag along after Nora and help her solve her "case." You own me, big time."

"Oh my god."

"You fucked up good, Mick. Beth isn't at all happy with you and neither am I. And for what? You didn't even kill Coraline!"

"I…couldn't."

"You know what? Get the hell out of here. I don't want to see your face right now. Go home and let your wife kick your ass."

XXX

It was a quarter to midnight – deadline – when Mick crept up the stairs and into the bedroom. Beth was in bed but he knew by her breathing that she wasn't asleep. He knelt on the floor by her side.

"I'm sorry. I'll do anything you want. I'll quit being a PI; I'll _turn_ you right now. Whatever you want. I don't want to screw this up. I can't—"his voice broke.

Beth gave up pretending to be asleep and opened her eyes. "Right now I want you to talk to me. Why did you let me meet with Josh alone -- or is that how you planned it? Leave us alone together maybe we rekindle something?"

"No, that's not how I planned it," he answered quietly.

"This isn't a new issue, but I'd thought – hoped it was behind us."

"What do you mean?"

"The minute we slept together everything changed. Suddenly you're trying to wrap me in cotton and we're not working together like we used to work anymore. We were such a good team. I miss that."

"What do you want me to say? That I feel the same about you now as I did when we were just friends and you were with Josh?"

"We were never _just_ friends," she reminded him with a slight smile that gave him hope for the outcome of the conversation.

"Probably not, but yeah, maybe it was different. I don't know how it could help but be. Things _are_ different now. I can't pretend they're not."

"But you want me to, when you decide to go off on your own and continue to play that lone wolf role."

"This was different," he said, even while knowing it was hypocritical.

"Yeah, it was different. It was even more important _not_ to."

"I didn't kill Coraline," he blurted. "I couldn't just kill her in cold blood. Forgive me…" He rested his forehead against her side.

Beth's fingers combed through his hair comfortingly. "You wouldn't be the man I fell in love with if you had. Whatever happens, we'll deal with her – together."

"Together," he vowed. And this time he swore to himself he wouldn't forget.

Beth pulled his head up and drew him into a kiss. They had a lot to talk over, but that could wait. Right now they needed the comfort of each other's bodies more.

XXX

_Why didn't I kill Coraline? I don't know. Maybe, God has had mercy on my soul so I gave her mercy. Will I regret it one day? I hope not. I'm gambling on her past behavior – her patiently waiting all these years. She has no clue how I really feel about Beth. She still sees the damaged, obsessed vampire I was. That's the way it has to stay._

_I told Beth sometimes death is humane. Yet in this case I spared Coraline. Maybe, in the end, even monsters deserve a chance at redemption._

XXX

Epilogue:

**Closure**

It was late afternoon and Mick was in his office, going over the file on his latest case. Just a nice, plain, boring divorce. The wife was convinced her soon-to-be ex was cheating on her. He wasn't from what Mick could tell – which should have been good news but probably wasn't going to be. She was hoping for a really big settlement.

Mick looked at the phone and sighed. Telling himself procrastination wasn't manly, he picked up the receiver and dialed the number. It was answered on the second ring.

"Hello Josh, its Mick St. John…….. I'm sorry I missed you the other night. This time I promise to be home…… Yeah, we do have some things to talk about." Hanging up, he marked the appointment on his calendar.

He was just thinking of rewarding himself with a nice glass of single malt when there was a knock at the door. A glance at the screen showed a UPS man in the hall with a package. Wondering if Beth had ordered something – he wasn't expecting anything himself – he opened the door to the delivery man.

"Package for Mr. Mick St. John."

"I'm St. John."

"You need to sign for it," he was told.

Mick scrawled his name on the clipboard and took the box inside. It was addressed to him, but there was no return address. Later he'd wonder why he wasn't wary and why he never noticed anything amiss, but, distracted, he took the letter opener from the desk, slit the tape and opened the box.

The sight that greeted him was so unexpected and shocking that he jumped away, staring in horror at the body-less head of his ex-wife, Coraline Duvall.

Mick stared wildly around the room, then went over and hastily closed the box for fear that Beth might come walking in and discover his special delivery. Sinking back into the chair, he stared at the box as if it might jump at him. So many emotions were running through him that he couldn't sort them out, but he couldn't deny the definite feeling of relief – like something tangible connecting them had been severed.

_Yeah, like her head._

If he'd been human, now would have been a perfect time to throw up. All Mick could do was stare. He ran a shaking hand over his face, and then grabbed the phone again. He had to try three times before he got the number he knew by heart right. It looked like her. Smelled… well, he didn't want to think about that. Nevertheless, he didn't trust his own senses at this point. It may have been obvious – but he'd been wrong twice before.

"Josef?" He said when it finally got the number right and it was answered, dismayed to find his voice was shaking as well. "Can you come over immediately? There's something you _have_ to see…. Yes, it's urgent. I need you now."

XXX

By the time Josef arrived (in half the time it normally took, so he knew Josef had taking his 'now' seriously), Mick was more composed. Even a little pissed, although he wasn't quite sure why.

"I got a package," he said as he opened the door and Josef walked in. "I need your expert opinion." Without offering a warning, he lifted the flap of the box. "Is this really Coraline and is she really dead?"

"Have you lost your mind?!" Josef yelled, backing up a step. "I thought you said you didn't kill her?"

"I didn't. This came special delivery today. Did you?" he inquired.

Josef regained his composure, but pointedly avoided looking at the package on the desk. "If it had been me, you'd have found her head in bed – or in this case freezer – with you."

"I always knew you had Godfather delusions. But I'm right, she's definitely dead now?"

"Get a grip, man! No, we can't grow new heads! Trust me, she's shuffled off this immortal coil for good this time. Now can you _please_ get rid of that thing!"

"That thing used to be my wife."

His words sobered both of them. "Sorry," Josef told him. "I know she was a bitch that made your life a living hell, but…"

"Yeah," Mick agreed. "Shit, I don't know. I don't know _what_ I feel right now."

"She wasn't just your wife. She was your sire."

"And now she's not."

"Now she's not," Josef agreed, with an enigmatically sympathetic expression. He'd never spoken to Mick of his own sire, but he knew all about the ties that bind even when they shouldn't, bind so tight until they cut off the circulation and squeeze the life out of you. When Maximilian had lost his own undead life in the tradition of reaping what he'd sown, Josef had felt the relief of knowing the connection was forever gone – and the peculiar sense of loss that conversely went with it.

"Now she's not."

XXX

_Even centuries' old vampires need to change. Keep evolving. That was the problem with Coraline – she didn't. We spend our lives cut off from the mortal world, reinforcing our differences with each passing year. But times like this make you think maybe we're more alike than we realize._

The three of them sat on the couch in the St. John apartment. Beth's arm was through Mick's in support, and Josef was on her other side, his arm around her. They were holding their own private wake, a bottle of expensive whiskey on the table and full glasses in their hands.

Mick took a big swallow of his drink. "I wish she could've changed." He shook his head. "What a waste."

Every once in awhile he would have a brief moment of contemplating who might have done it, even suspected it might be Josef, but had decided he really didn't _want_ to know. There was a non-stop hit parade of suspects, including all three of the people currently in the room. Coraline had made more than her share of enemies. She'd never learned. And now it was too late.

Josef stared into his glass as if it might reveal some wisdom to him. "I don't know much about her past, but from what I gather, the things she went through at the hands of her family… Coraline was what she was. Beautiful creature; irresistible, avaricious, insane, contradictory."

"I'm afraid I can't see what you do," Beth admitted. "I'm just mostly relieved."

"That, too," Mick agreed.

"Whenever a vampire this old dies, we all mourn," Josef explained. "No matter what their personality."

"I think I understand."

"To Coraline," Mick toasted, touching his glass to the others.

"To Coraline," they echoed.

To Coraline Duvall. Maybe she rest in peace and may God have mercy on her soul.

XXX

_This is Beth St. John, coming to you live from Lancaster State prison. Two minutes ago, serial killer Jonathan Morgan was executed by lethal injection. His merciless killing spree spanned ten years and claimed twenty innocent victims. Tonight, the families have closure and the public has justice. And there's one less monster in the world._

XXX

_Survival. Avoiding death. Mourning the dead. Killing each other and preying upon each other. Loyalty and betrayal . Hurting and loving and hating… what DOES set up apart from humanity? Maybe the truth is nothing -- except only our desire to distance ourselves from it._

_Can you blame us?_

THE END.

8/1/08

Note: Who killed Coraline? I don't know at this point in time. The murderer may reveal himself/herself to me during a future story, or maybe I'll never know. If anyone has any theories, feel free to share. (FYI: no, Josef did NOT kill his sire… someone else did who will be revealed in a future chapter where I explore more of Josef's past -- for you J fans).


End file.
